


Legacy One Shots

by cl410



Series: Legacy [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Women, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, Female Friendship, Found Family, Legacy Verse, Magic, Magic Darcy Lewis, Pack Bonding, Powers Darcy, Spark Darcy Lewis, Spark Stiles Stilinski, The Hale Pack - Freeform, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2019-07-30 00:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16275074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl410/pseuds/cl410
Summary: A collection of scenes in the Legacy 'verse.





	1. The Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> NSFW chapters marked as *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: the squad gets captured and interrogated separately, and they’re all telling equally terrible, completely contradictory lies
> 
> Present: Darcy, Lydia, Erica, Jane, Cora, Stiles, and Derek

“Well, Miss Lewis,” Detective Kirkland said, tossing a large file onto the table. “Would you care to explain what happened tonight?” 

Darcy shrugged. “I’m still not sure why you’re asking me, dude.” 

“Because you and your friends were all found at the scene of the crime,” he said flatly. “And unless you all want to go to jail for-” he flipped the file open and scanned the list- “breaking and entering, robbery, grand theft auto,  _ and _ resisting arrest, you’ll tell me why I should start looking elsewhere.” 

“Well, Detective,” Darcy said with a sigh as she leaned forward to prop her arms on the table, “I guess I’d better start from the beginning.” 

~*~ 

“Mr. Sti- Stil-” 

“It’s Stilinski,” Stiles sighed. 

~*~ 

“Why were you and your friends discovered inside the jewelry store, then?” The detective demanded. 

“We were walking  _ by _ the jewelry store when the  _ actual _ robbers set off the alarm,” Erica said with an eyeroll. “And then  _ you _ morons showed up and let them get away.” 

~*~ 

“Everyone knows the average response time of your precinct is  _ well _ below what it should be,” Lydia said, casually inspecting her nails. “Honestly, it’s a wonder that someone hasn’t tried their luck before now.” 

~*~ 

“You see what I’m dealing with? I didn’t even get dinner! We were supposed to go get  _ dinner, _ you son of a bitch!” Jane pounded her fist on the table. “But  _ nooo, _ every outing ends up with someone getting arrested or picking a fight  or getting shot at and then I don’t get my food!” 

“Ma’am, please, I just asked you to confirm your legal name.” The cop inched away, notebook held before him like a shield. 

~*~ 

“No one stole a car,” Derek said flatly. 

“The rest of your group drove away in a stolen van.” 

“They weren’t with us, we were trying to  _ stop them.” _ Derek rolled his eyes so hard his head hurt. 

~*~ 

“2.5 seconds.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Cora stared at the cop. “2.5 seconds,” she repeated, leaning forward with a dangerous smile. “That’s how long it’ll take me to break every bone in your hand if you touch me again.” 

“I just took the handcuffs  _ off _ of you!” 

~*~ 

“So then, I figured those guys were robbing the store and we should probably try to stop them,” Stiles said. 

“You didn’t think to leave that to the professionals?” Detective Kirkland asked, brows arched. 

Stiles looked around the room. “I mean, yeah, but we didn’t exactly see any around.” He only winked when Kirkland bristled. 

~*~ 

“Didn’t you check the cameras?” Darcy asked skeptically. 

“They were destroyed at the time of the break-in.” Detective Kirkland crossed his arms. “Which you knew, of course.” 

“Not the ones at the jewelry store. The ones across the street.” 

“And  _ why _ would I look at cameras from across the street?” 

“... Because they’re pointed right at the store?” Darcy eyed him when he only sat frozen in his seat. “You didn’t know about the cameras, huh?” 

~*~ 

“Are you asking me to do your job for you?” Erica asked sweetly. “Because, if I recall correctly, that’s what you arrested us for in the first place.” 

~*~ 

“I wrote down the license plate for you,” Lydia said, bored. “Along with the make and model of their van.”

“You got a license plate for the getaway car?” The cop, a young woman, squinted at her. “How?” 

“I’m good in a tight spot,” Lydia said with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “Plus, I have an eidetic memory.” 

“I… I’ll be right back.”

~*~ 

“Mr. Stilin…” 

“For fuck’s sake, just call me Stiles.” 

~*~ 

“See, Dr. Foster informed us that you were on your way to a different restaurant, one across town. Your stories are already conflicting.” 

“Wow, you caught us, Sherlock,” Cora drawled. She sniffed haughtily. “Jane’s just mad she lost the rock-paper-scissors tournament that decided where we were going for dinner.” 

~*~ 

“She  _ cheated! _ Cheating disqualifies her from the pool, and therefore I won the right to make the decision!” Jane threw her hands up in frustration. “They  _ always cheat!”  _

“How do you cheat at rock-paper-scissors?” The rookie whispered to his partner. He blanched when Jane rounded on him.

~*~ 

“No, I didn’t see their faces, they had masks on.” Darcy cocked her head in thought. “I think one was a rabbit.” She blinked at the detective. “Why aren’t you writing that down?” 

~*~

“Also the estimated heights and weights of each member of the gang.” Lydia tapped a nail on the scrap of paper. “Six total.” 

~*~ 

“Oh, yeah, I definitely saw their faces,” Erica scoffed. “All four of ‘em.” 

~*~ 

“You’d better wrap this up quickly,” Derek sighed. “Because my sister is on her way.” 

“And how is that relevant? You’re persons of interest in a robbery.” 

Derek looked away from counting ceiling tiles and grinned at Detective Kirkland with all of his teeth. “My sister is Laura Hale.” 

The blood drained out of the detective’s face. 

~*~ 

“Two women, three men,” Stiles said with a decisive nod. “Plus one guy had one of those weird skin mask things, like with Obama’s face on it?” 

~*~ 

“No good deed goes unpunished, huh?” Darcy sighed. She eyed Kirkland with extreme distaste. “I guess the whole ‘justice is dead’ thing is true, too.” 

~*~ 

“Maybe next time they’ll listen to me,” Jane said.  _ “I  _ wanted to go to the Tavern!” 

~*~ 

“Everyone knows the Tavern is a front for the mob.” Cora groaned. “I don’t  _ care _ if they have the best burgers in town! They’re the  _ mob!” _

“They’re  _ what?” _ The detective leaned in to the cop beside him. “Did  _ we _ know about that?” 

“God, you’re useless.” 

~*~ 

“Cora said it was the mob? No way. The Tavern has  _ cartel _ ties. Drug runners, y’know.” Erica frowned when the two cops just stared at her. “You didn’t know?” 

~*~ 

“They miscalculated. It’s obvious none of them were smart enough to pull this off.” 

Kirkland blinked at Lydia. “So.... you’re saying that none of you did it, because if you did… you’d never get caught?” 

“Exactly. Keep up, would you?” 

~*~ 

“Of course we wouldn’t get caught. What is this, amateur hour?” Stiles scoffed. 

~*~ 

“What were they wearing?” 

“All black, like terrible impersonations of a cat burglar.” 

~*~ 

“He said they were wearing all black? No way, one guy had on red flip flops and a fuzzy robe.” 

~*~ 

“Fuzzy robe? No, that guy wasn’t part of the  _ heist, _ he was just there to yell at everyone for making too much noise.” 

~*~ 

A tremulous voice echoed over the intercom. “Sir? … Laura Hale is here.” 

“It was nice knowing you,” Derek said with a smug grin. 

~*~ 

“Could you just cooperate for ten minutes?!” 

“I  _ could _ do that, sure, but could doesn’t mean  _ would _ . Also, you’re a dick and I hate you.” 

~*~

“Look, I admire vigilantes. They get a lot of shit done. I just can’t be one. Vigilantes don’t get paid, and I have bills.” 

~*~ 

“Um. Sir.”

“What now?! Can’t you see I’m busy?” 

“Sir, the… the Avengers just brought the real thieves in? They’re, uh, all in the lobby?” 

~*~ 

“So,” Bucky said with a grin, tucking Darcy under one arm. “Exciting night, huh?” 

“Shut up,” she grumbled. “I’m starving. Please tell me we’re going to get food.” Jane perked up, only to have the group immediately round on her. 

_ “We’re not going to the Tavern!” _


	2. Wintershock*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just straight smut. I danced around anything explicit in the previous fic, but apparently I will have no limits for this one. Skip this chapter if it's not your thing, but please read the end notes first!

Water streamed over Darcy’s skin, trickling over skin flushed pink. Darcy gasped and clutched Bucky’s shoulders, dropping her head back to stare blindly at the ceiling of her walk-in shower. 

Bucky curled the two fingers he had inside of her, sliding them deep as he mouthed along her jaw. His other hand trailed over her side and cupped her breast, scraping a thumbnail over her nipple. Darcy’s breathing hitched. 

“Please,” she breathed. Her hips jerked when Bucky swiped his thumb over her clit, just enough teasing pressure to make her want more. His shoulders blocked most of the spray now, and Darcy shivered as the cool air drifted over her wet skin. 

“Bucky,” she sighed. Darcy’s fingers curled into his biceps, nails pressing into flesh and metal alike. “Stop teasing me, you jerk.” 

A smile pressed against her jaw. “But you look so pretty like this, babydoll. Can’t help myself.” A gentle bite against the sensitive skin of her neck. Those two fingers moved steadily, thick, blunt pressure that was bringing her higher and higher onto her toes as she tried to chase the pleasure building low in her belly. 

Darcy gripped the wet strands of his hair and tugged his face back.  _ “James,” _ she hissed, and took his bottom lip between her teeth. Bucky chased her mouth, groaning as she wrapped her free hand around his cock, sliding her thumb across the precome leaking from the tip. 

“Here?” He asked against her mouth. 

“Yes,” she whispered. Darcy whined a little as he pulled his fingers away, only to immediately grip her under the thighs and lift her. She gasped as he pressed her against the cold wall of the shower, only to lose her breath entirely when he reached down to line himself up to her cunt. Darcy’s breath caught at the first press in, broad and thick and hard, and she had to stifle a desperate noise. 

“You good?” He murmured, watching the way her pupils blew out as he lowered her further onto his cock. Fuck, but it was a thrill to have all of his focus, all of that the intensity and concentration fixated on her. In answer, Darcy kissed him, deep and slow and filthy- the same steady tempo he set as he fucked her up against the wall. 

Pressure,  _ intensity, _ the kind that left both of them breathless and with a burning need for more. Bucky had picked up on her preferences quick, seemed to know that being held up against a wall and  _ taken _  made her hot as hell. 

Slow, fast, it didn’t matter. Not when the man fucking her against the wall was licking into her mouth, spreading her open with hands curled underneath her thighs, leaving finger-sized bruises that would drive them both a little crazy later on. 

His dick pressed against a spot deep inside of her, one that made her clench tight around him and shiver. Bucky adjusted his angle, aimed for that same spot with every flex of his hips. He didn’t let up, just kept the same steady tempo as Darcy felt her legs start to shake.

The first orgasm hit her like a bolt of lightning, rolling through her even as Bucky scraped his teeth over her shoulder and yanked her hips into his, never missing a beat. Distantly, Darcy was aware of the breathless noises punched helplessly out of her with every controlled thrust. 

“Shh,” Bucky said into her skin. “I got you, baby.” He dragged his tongue across the skin of her breasts, lowering his head to draw her nipple into his mouth. Darcy panted as he flicked his tongue across the nub, moving on to the other as she arched into his mouth. The sensation sent electric tingles directly to her clit, had her desperately rolling her hips, seeking more. 

Darcy twisted, clenched down on him as tightly as she could. “Fuck,” Bucky gritted out.  _ “Fuck, _ I can’t-” He staggered back, holding her tighter, and sat abruptly down on the shower bench. Darcy’s palms slapped against the wall behind him, braced on either side of his head. 

Bucky was breathing hard, only a thin ring of blue visible around dark pupils. Darcy leaned in, licked into his open mouth, knees pressed into his hips. She had leverage now, enough to grind down into his lap and make him pant against her neck. 

He curled a hand around her hip, dragging her down further as she rocked into him. His other hand slid down, over her belly, to rest at the crease of her hip and thigh. His thumb brushed over the hood of her clit, teasing with light pressure and an intense gaze. Heat and pressure built and built inside of her, pooling between her legs. 

She was there, almost, not quite, desperately chasing the orgasm building again. Darcy keened, leaning back with her hands on his knees and rolling her hips sinuously to find a better angle, to take him deeper. Wide hands braced her as she arched back, one sliding down to grip her ass. 

“I need-” Darcy broke off when Bucky nipped down her throat, pulling the skin tight between his teeth. He worried a spot at the base, alternatively biting and laving it with his tongue until Darcy resigned herself to wearing a high-necked shirt to hide what was becoming a large, dark hickey. 

“What do you need? More?” Bucky waited for her distracted nod to grab her by the hips to hold her still while he slid out of her. Darcy whined, reaching for him, only to be spun around. She blinked at the wall, balanced on her knees on the shower bench. 

“Lift up,” Bucky said into her ear. She obeyed, drawing one knee up at a time as he dragged a towel into the shower and dropped it onto the bench for her knees to rest on. “Don’t wanna hurt your knees,” he murmured. 

“So thoughtful,” she said with a breathless laugh, but readjusted on the soggy- but much softer- towel. 

He nipped her on the side of her neck in retaliation. “Brat.” Darcy leaned back into him, letting him take most of her weight as he nudged her knees wider. One hand wrapped around her waist, dropping down to slide wet fingers across her clit before he fucked back up into her. 

“Fuck,” Darcy choked at the drag of his cock inside of her. Bucky’s metal arm slid around her body, fingers resting gently against her neck to keep her pulled back into him. 

The new angle lit up every nerve inside of her body. Darcy cried out with every thrust of his hips, little  _ oh, oh, oh’s,  _ legs shaking so badly she didn’t know how she wasn’t a puddle on the floor. One of her hands reached for his, settling over the careful grip he had on her neck. The other went back to tangle in his hair, pulling the warmth of his body tighter against her, back against his chest as steam swirled around them. 

Her grip turned desperate, curling into his hair and around his fingers as Bucky tapped his fingers across her clit. The orgasm  punched out of her, making her shake around him with a full-throated cry as he snapped his hips into hers once, twice, and then stilled. She felt his cock pulse inside of her as he came, groaning against her shoulder. 

They didn’t move for a long minute, catching their breath. Bucky pressed gentle kisses along her shoulder, trailing a hand in soothing strokes over her, neck to belly and back up again. 

“We’re gonna be so late for the debrief,” Darcy said, slightly winded. Bucky laughed and stepped back to slap at the shower controls until the water shut off. 

He reached forward, gripped her at the waist to help her off of the bench. Darcy groaned a little when her knees protested. “C’mon, doll,” Bucky said, walking her backwards until he could drag a dry towel down from the shower door and pass it to her. 

“I want a nap now,” Darcy sighed as they dried off. “And food.” 

“How ‘bout we get through this debriefing,” Bucky suggested, crowding her against the wall again. “And then order a pizza-” he kissed her, slow and deep, “- and then take a nap-” another kiss, “-and  _ then _ we do this all over again.” 

“Uh huh,” Darcy said faintly, eyes on his swollen mouth. 

“Starting with my head between your legs. We’ll see where it goes from there.” Bucky winked at her and just grinned when she yanked him into another kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I know I said this one shot collection would probably be the last of the series but I had a little inspiration...
> 
> Quick consensus: would y'all be interested in a continuation of the actual series, ft. alternating Darcy and Naomi chapters? I don't want to run this into the ground but I'm apparently too attached to this verse to let it go just yet.


	3. Series of Outtakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A series of random outtakes. Also, I haven't replied to any comments yet because I've been too busy crying about how wonderful you guys all are.

“I did warn you,” Darcy said casually as she leaned against the bar beside Tony. “They’re a lot.”

Tony’s gaze drifted over the pack, milling around the common area of the Tower. “You did warn me,” he agreed. “Next time I’ll take you a little more seriously.”

“Come on,” Darcy said, grabbing him by the elbow and steering him into the group, “Quit hiding, I have to introduce everyone.”

Tony’s shoulders were stiff but he allowed himself to be nudged along to the first group. “Tony, this is Erica, Boyd, Stiles, and Derek.” She pointed to each of them. “Best friend, best friend, the other spark, brother.”

Tony was momentarily distracted by the fox tattoo bounding along Stiles’s arm, stretched over the back of the couch behind Derek.

“You get used to it eventually,” Erica sympathized. Derek nodded.

“Magic tattoos are the least weird thing in our lives now,” Boyd agreed. He eyed Tony. “Welcome to the crazy, Stark.” Stiles snorted a laugh.

“Why is it that I’ve never seen your tattoos before now?” Tony asked as she steered him away. “You’ve been running around the tower for long enough that Jarvis should have picked up on it.”

Darcy slid her sleeve up to her elbow, revealing the intricate armband of runes. Tony blinked down at it in surprise when one of the runes glowed softly and then the entire tattoo disappeared. “We have runes that can disguise our tattoos,” she explained. An absent thought and the tattoos appeared again. “So humans don’t see them and lose their minds.”

Tony snorted. Darcy pointed over to Danny and Jackson, where they sat with Allison and Lydia listening to Jane as she scribbled illegibly on a cocktail napkin. “You know Danny, of course. Jackson is his boyfriend-” Jackson glanced over, then refocused on what Lydia was saying, “Lydia is a banshee, but you knew that, since you hired her and all.” Darcy waved at Allison when her sister grinned up at her. “That’s Allison.”

“Your... stepsister?” Tony tried.

“Eh, close enough. Peter and Chris-” she pointed over to where they sat with Sam and Thor- “they’re married. They, uh, basically raised me after I showed up at the Hales.” Peter heard her and glanced over, eyes warm. “Allison is Chris’s daughter.”

“Chris Argent, the hunter.”

Darcy nodded. “Yeah, the Argents are basically the oldest hunting family in the world. The rest of them are mostly batshit, but Chris and Alli are good.”

She continued the tour of her pack. “Cora’s the youngest Hale,” she said, tipping her head to the corner of the room, where Cora sat with Natasha and Pepper, Maria joining them with an armful of drinks. “Scott and Isaac are bitten wolves.” Scott looked up and waved at them as they passed by. “Kira is a thunder kitsune, and super badass with a sword.” Kira smiled sweetly at Darcy.

“And our fearless leader,” Darcy finished, standing on her toes to sling an arm around Laura’s neck and drag her down. “Laura Hale, Alpha of the Hale Pack and the most terrifying prosecutor that ever lived.”

“Aww,” Laura said, reaching around to ruffle Darcy’s hair. She used the pool stick in her other hand to block Clint’s attempt towards the pool table. “Oh, no you don’t, Hawkass. It’s still my turn.” Bucky’s grin widened at Clint’s protests.

A chorus of growls drew Darcy’s attention, and she turned around to see Scott and Isaac scowling at each other over Monopoly. “Oh, boy,” Darcy muttered. She considered intervening, but Peter beat her to it.

“Boys, boys,” he crooned. “You know the rules.”

“No Monopoly allowed on pack nights,” the chorused glumly.

“That’s right.” Peter tugged a box off of the shelf. “Instead, I’m going to destroy you both at Settlers of Catan.” Steve perked up.

Darcy groaned and set her drink down. “I’m going to stop this before someone gets drop kicked out of a window. Again.”

~*~

Darcy yelped when a hand reached out and yanked her into the dark stairwell of her apartment building. She raised a hand, palm glowing brightly, and paused. “Erica, what the fuck,” she said flatly.

“Shh!” Erica slapped Darcy’s hand aside. “Turn that off!”

Darcy obeyed. She blinked in the sudden dark, staring in Erica’s general direction. “Care to explain why we’re standing in the dark, then?”

Erica was silent. Darcy thought maybe she was shifting nervously, wringing her hands together, based off of the anxious atmosphere. “Erica?” Darcy asked, gently this time. “Is everything okay? Do you want me to go get Boyd?”

“No!” Erica lunged forward, gripped Darcy’s arm like she might run off. “No, don’t go get him. I just- I need to talk to you first.”

“Okay.” Darcy inched closer. “What about? Are you alright?”

“I’m pregnant!” Erica blurted. Darcy froze. “I’m pregnant. Boyd doesn’t know yet, I just found out an hour ago.”

“Holy shit,” Darcy whispered, leaning in. “You- you’re- Erica!” She paused again. “Wait, we are happy about this, right?” She let her spark wind around them, just faint enough to cast a dim light on Erica’s face.

Erica pressed a hand to her mouth. “I… I think so. I really think so, I just. I didn’t know how to feel at first.” She clutched Darcy’s hand and chewed on her bottom lip anxiously. “Darce, I’m scared.”

“Why?” Darcy asked, shooting a cautious glance at the stairwell to ensure it was still empty.

“Because I don’t know if I’m ready to be a parent,” Erica said. “That’s… Darcy, I’d be responsible for a baby. A tiny, helpless little baby. I’d be a terrible mother.”

Darcy reached up to cup Erica’s face in her hands. “Are you kidding me? Erica, you’d be an incredible mom. You’d love your baby to pieces. And so would Boyd.”

Erica smiled a little helplessly at the mention of Boyd. “He would be a good dad, wouldn’t he?”

“The best dad.” Darcy grinned at her best friend. “And you’d have the whole pack to help you. Hell, we’re going to spoil this baby rotten.”

Erica sobered. “My mom left me,” she said quietly. “She walked out before I was diagnosed. Said I was… Well. It’s not worth repeating.”

“She didn’t deserve you,” Darcy said furiously. “And you could never abandon anyone you loved, much less your child, like that. You know that, Erica.”

Erica took a deep breath. “I do. Of course I do. I just needed to hear it, I guess.” She laughed a little, thrilled. “I’m having a baby, Darce.”

Darcy bit her lip to stop her excited grin from spreading into manic territory. “A baby!” She gasped. “Oh my god, I’m going to be an aunt!” She threw her arms around Erica.

“I have to go tell Boyd,” Erica laughed, wiping at her wet eyes.

“He’s going to be so excited,” Darcy told her.

“You think?” Erica asked, nerves rising again.

“I know,” Darcy said firmly.

~*~

“Tony? Are you down here?” Pepper crept through the darkened lab, skillfully picking her way through the mess. She found him sprawled out on the couch, staring at a wide holoscreen.

Saying nothing, Pepper wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders and joined him, curling up into his side when he absently lifted an arm for her. She watched the screen for only a few seconds before understanding. Pepper pressed a hand over his chest, resting gently over the scar tissue.

He was quiet for a long few minutes. Thinking, reflecting on second chances and recovery and being better than you were before. Tony had written himself off early, a result of his father’s disdain and mother’s absence and that absolute certainty that he’d never, ever measure up. Never be good enough. Never be worth it.

But Tony had started to heal before Darcy came into his life, and for that he was grateful. He’d patched himself up enough, shoved those demons back far enough that one day, maybe, he would actually be worth the title of father.

“I have a daughter, Pep,” Tony said quietly. This was the fourth time he’d told her that, but this time was different. Less of a stunned realization and more like an awed declaration.

“She’s beautiful,” Pepper said softly. They watched the security feed of Darcy and Jane laughing together in the astrophysicist’s lab, despite the late hour.

“I came so close to never knowing her,” Tony told her after a contemplative silence. “So many times, and I never had a single clue.”

“She leads a dangerous life, it seems.” Pepper’s mind was still swirling with the information learned from Darcy and Maria’s thorough explanation of the supernatural world. She’d never felt so out of her depth in her life, not even when Tony shoved SI at her and left her scrambling to take over. “But she’s someone to be proud of, Tony. I could see that after ten minutes of interaction with her.”

“Yeah.” Tony finally tore his eyes away from the screen and pressed his lips to Pepper’s hair. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her shampoo, felt the tension in shoulders ease away with the comforting warmth of her body against his. “Yeah, she is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay SO I maybe have already outlined another part and written the first two chapters of it... I want to get a little further in before I start posting, so I'll post chapter 4 of this next (ft. Jane, Darcy, and the Fae realm) and then hopefully will be able to start posting the new story by this weekend! 
> 
> I can't thank you guys enough for all of the love and support- I love every single one of you.


	4. The Unseelie Queen

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Jane said quietly. She stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Darcy, facing an open Fae gate. “Especially with all of your Fae-related trauma and all. But… I really didn’t want to do this alone.”

Darcy reached down and squeezed Jane’s hand. “I won’t lie, I’m terrified. But I’m going with you, Jane. I wouldn’t _let_ you do this alone.” She took a deep breath. “Even if there is an Ak’ma waiting on the other side.”

“Technically I’m their ruler now,” Jane said nervously. “Which means I should be able to control them.”

“I’m not sure they listen to _anyone.”_ Darcy swallowed hard and squared her shoulders. “But if anybody could do it, it’d be you.”

“I could just blast them into little pieces,” Jane suggested. They both brightened a little.

“Suddenly I’m feeling better,” Darcy told her friend. “Let’s do this.”

Jane caught her arm before she could step through the Fae gate. “You still have the iron daggers, right?” She asked.

“Yeah, a couple.” Darcy motioned towards her leather jacket and the iron weapons hidden within it. She kept them covered though- Jane was Fae, obviously, though her half blood meant the metal was more like an allergy than a death sentence.

“Okay.” Jane took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

Darcy tangled her fingers in Jane’s and stepped through the portal with the Unseelie Queen.

~*~

“I… I don’t understand,” Jane said numbly. “This is not what it looked like the last time I was here.”

“Holy shit,” Darcy breathed. She double checked that her glamor rune was activated. Yep- Jane stood beside her, a creature of sky and stars. “Holy shit, Jane.”

The Fae realm was once nothing but ashes and burning glass, screams and nightmares lurking in the shadows. But now, impossibly, it was a new world entirely.

Warm, sweet-smelling fog drifted lazily around them. In place of ashes and emptiness there were hazy forests with gentle streams and a night sky so breathtaking Darcy felt tears rise from sheer awe. Jane’s fingers dug painfully into Darcy’s arm when they both looked up, only to see what appeared to be a pod of ghost-white, aquatic Fae swimming through the sky, soaring gracefully above through thick clouds hovering at distant mountain peaks.

Their singing call echoed through the air, sending a goosebumps down Darcy’s arms. “Did you do this?” Darcy whispered. Her awe was overwhelming, a far cry from the terror she’d experienced during her previous visit to this realm.

“I… don’t think so?” Jane looked around, just as stunned as Darcy. “Not on purpose, at least.”

“The Fae realm is a manifestation of its rulers,” a voice said from behind them. Both women whirled around, wide-eyed and ready to fight. A dryad stepped gracefully from a nearby tree, drifting slowly to the ground.

The dryad did not appear definitively male or female, though it had adopted a vaguely humanoid form built from the roots and smooth bark of the tree. White leaves sprang from narrow vines twisting their way up the dryad’s body.

“This realm began to change the moment you overcame the previous Queen. Intentional or not, it has reformed under your influence,” the dryad told them. It studied them for a moment, lingering on the magic glowing in Darcy’s palm, before returning its attention to Jane.

“I have not been involved in a Fae Court in centuries,” the dryad said. “My people nearly dwindled entirely under the reign of the previous Queen.” Darcy remembered then, faintly, the sight of small, drained faces trapped in the burning glass trees from her visit all those years ago. She wondered, a little nauseous, if those creatures had been tree spirits, nature Fae.

With a graceful bow, the dryad told Jane solemnly, “It would be my honor to serve you now.”

“I’m not here to rule,” Jane said a little desperately.

The dryad straightened, seeming to grow taller as it did so. “You are the Unseelie Queen. Already, you have restored what this realm once was. In the process, you have saved countless lesser Fae.” With a wide sweep of its arm, the dryad motioned to the Fae cautiously creeping out of the forest.

Darcy inhaled sharply at the sight- more dryads drifting down from the trees, pixies fluttering like hummingbirds in the air, Fae with adopted animal forms slinking through the forest.

“The Unseelie Fae at the Hellmouth,” Darcy said hesitantly. “They were…”

“Demonic, yes.” The dryad didn’t move when a particularly brave pixie fluttered closer and dropped onto its shoulder. “It was dark magic from the previous Queen, twisting Fae into monsters. She was a poison to us all.”

“Most of the peaceful Fae, the lesser ones, were killed or imprisoned,” another dryad added. “Until you killed her. You turned our realm into this, instead of the light-less prison we have been locked inside.”

Darcy flinched a little as a paw batted at the magic glowing in her palm. She looked down, surprised, and felt her mouth drop open at the sight of the creature beside her.

It was small, with delicate feline features, as if someone had shrunk a lion and given it horns underneath a fluffy mane. Its eyes were a bright, solid white, shining against light brown fur. Darker brown stripes rippled underneath its coat along the creature’s spine. It reached only her knee in height, swinging a long barbed tail.

“Jane,” Darcy said in a strangled voice.

Jane glanced over distractedly. She looked back at the gathered Fae, then whipped her head back around to gawk at the creature. “What the hell?”

“A Viveox,” the dryad said serenely. “They are new to this realm as well. It appears that they survive off of sunlight.”

“Something we have not had for centuries, here,” another dryad added.

“Does it do anything else?” Darcy asked nervously, recalling the last lion-based creature she had encountered. The Viveox did not seem to be a chimera in disguise, though. It was already bounding around them, chasing a translucent butterfly. Her internal voice was already squealing over its precious little face, wariness forgotten. 

“We do not know. They are very new.”

Jane groaned under her breath. “Did I make a new Fae?”

“If you did, good job. It’s cute as hell.” Darcy crouched down, charmed when the creature scrambled over to her on its little legs.

“C’mon, Soft Science. Put those degrees to work and help me figure out a plan.” Jane nudged Darcy with her boot.

Darcy shrugged, watching the Viveox chase small orbs of her spark around. “You could always name a regent,” she suggested. “Someone to rule in your stead.” Jane just stared at her. “Jane, this place is actually not that bad now. I mean, sure, there’s probably lots of terrible Fae lurking around, but that goes for earth, too. And this way you’d know for sure that the Seelie Queen wouldn’t just take over after you left.”

“I don’t...” Overwhelmed, Jane tangled her fingers in her hair.

“You could keep the title and whatever, but just assign a regent to rule while you’re away. Besides,” Darcy broke off to squint at the stunning sky full of stars overhead. “You could probably find even more dimensions through this one.”

Jane glanced up as well. Darcy stifled a grin when her friend’s eyes grew distant, thoughtful. That brilliant mind at work, spinning with possibilities. “That’s very true,” she murmured. “I bet Lydia would have a few theories, too. Hmm.”

Darcy let her wander for a few minutes, staring up at the sky as she paced a few feet back and forth. “With the way time works here,” she started, drawing Jane’s attention back to her. “You could check in every few days to handle any issues.”

“Name a court in the meantime,” Jane said with a considering frown. “To manage the affairs.”

“I’m sure all of Thor’s prince lessons would be beneficial, too, if you asked him to help. He’d get a kick out of this place.”

Jane turned to study the gathered Fae. “If asked, would you and the others be able to name a couple representatives for yourselves?”

“Based off of species, or territory, or whatever way would be easiest to divide,” Darcy added.

The dryads deliberated for a moment. “If pressed, we would likely manage to do so, yes.”

“Do it,” Jane commanded. “We’ll get the court set up first, and then establish a system from there.” She looked back to Darcy. “Will you stay?”

“Of course,” Darcy said in reassurance. “Anything for the Queen.” She winked obnoxiously at Jane, who scowled back at her. Darcy stood, the Viveox pressed close to her legs. “Alright, everyone. Let’s get this realm back in order.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was gonna have Jane hand off the power but she said no, thank you, she has this handled. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ The next time she's in Asgard (as a rightful Queen from earth) Odin is going to lose his shit. 
> 
> The new fic will be up next week... The next one-shot chapter will be up before that, and will be a character study/insight to each of the Hale siblings that got really deep and introspective on me but might be one of my favorite things ever written.


	5. The Hales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra update, since I won't be posting the new fic until next week.

****

 

 ****** Laura **

The oldest child wasn’t necessarily guaranteed to inherit the Alpha power. The power passed on to the most suitable leader, the one who would safeguard the pack above all else. It was a fact Laura had reminded herself of often, when her skin felt too tight and her teeth bared instinctively against any and all orders even as a child.

She’d grown up strong and fast and vicious. Fighting came instinctively to her, but it was only natural. Natural because something dangerous lurked within her, as if she were just some wild thing waiting to be unleashed upon the world.

Laura was brash and loud and unapologetic. She refused to let the world dictate who she would be, how loud she could laugh, how deeply she could love.

She used laughter and life and happiness as her own “fuck you” to the world. She learned to weaponize her beauty, to use it against the leering men who never bothered to look beneath the surface.

Their mistake. They came up against her teeth quickly enough.

Laura learned to use her words as weapons, put that predatory brain to work dismantling arguments and decoding body language to best defeat her opponent. Because sometimes words were better, she’d discovered. Sometimes words resolved more than a fight would. She used that to her advantage, mastered the verbal skills until they matched her combat expertise.

She could start fights or end them, reveal truths and lies, soothe or galvanize with a carefully phrased sentence. It was power on another level, yet another weapon in her arsenal.

Laura was aware that she’d been born into a place of privilege, in terms of the color of her skin and the fortune attached the Hale name. She did her best to use that privilege in any way she could to help those without the opportunities and advantages she’d had.

“The world is cruel,” they all said when she bemoaned the state of society. Laura never put much stock in that, because it didn’t _have_ to be. Not if people were willing to do the right thing, to reach out to those that needed a hand up, to fight the injustices that broke people down.

Even when the injustices weren’t easily solved inside a courtroom. Laura remembered all too easily the insecurity on Darcy’s face when they’d told her she couldn’t be completely family. When her sister had learned that even the Hales valued the judgment of the supernatural world over her, magic or not.

But Darcy was _hers,_ in the same way that the rest of the pack was, too. The wolf in her saw no difference, so Laura refused to acknowledge one. She _refused_ to be told what to do, refused to forsake her sister. Even at the cost of war.

Love led her, love for her pack and family. The Alpha power belonged to Laura since the day she’d been born. It was always there, a potential within her that was both constant and untamed.

Laura was the Hale heir, and she’d protect her own- no matter the cost.

~*~

**Derek**

Some days he felt like he had nothing worthwhile to offer.

He was Laura’s second, a familiar position - not within the pack, but with Laura. He’d always been closest to his older sister. Maybe it was some ingrained werewolf pack mentality, or just the natural instinct of a brother, at work.

Derek was raised by and with extraordinary women. He saw the struggle in his sisters’ hearts and threw himself into workouts, into becoming Laura’s second, Darcy’s refuge, Cora’s confidant. He stood tall and sure, acting as protector and companion. He witnessed their struggles, their weaknesses, and stood by them while they overcame it all. He was patient and loyal to a fault, valuing his pack above all else.

And yet.

He could throw himself into making amends every single day of his life, but he would still be the one that nearly got them all killed. _He_ let the hunter in the door, _he_ was the one that believed her honey-sweet lies and cruel smile and thought her innocent questions were nothing but curiosity about his life.

Derek spent a lot of time after the fire wishing she’d managed to kill him. Just him. It was the only logical punishment for his crime, to put that young boy he’d been in the ground for good. He’d lost a lot more than his innocence, his naivety, that night.

Somehow, he could never voice the confession, could never force it past the lump in his throat. His family remained clueless about how deep Kate Argent had managed to sink her claws into them. Into him.

The self hate manifested in odd ways. The chant of “worthless, traitor, fool” that whispered through his mind any time the pressure in his chest eased, the way his hands shook after smelling her perfume on the street and made him sick for hours. The way, in his lowest moments, he thought of the wolfsbane hidden in Stiles’s stash of supplies with something akin to longing.

He deserved to hurt. _Needed_ it, sometimes. Anything to make the pain in his chest and the storm in his head quiet down, to give it all a tangible reason for existing.

But sometimes all it took was a touch, instead. A simple brush of fingers against his arm, a suffocating hug, legs tossed over his lap on a couch crammed full of people. His pack became a pillar of support and love, something to diminish the significance of those thoughts.

Brown eyes laughing up at him from his bed, a distracted mumble of words, a flash of light and warmth. Derek leaned on those little moments, treasured them more than Stiles would ever know. Slowly, daring to hope, Derek learned to forgive himself. He laid his self-hate to rest instead and let the love from his pack heal those wounds, bit by bit.

The role of second, brother, confidant. Everything Derek was, everything he could offer his family and pack, but this time without the shame and regret attached.

Whatever he had to give, he would.

~*~

** Cora **

The wolf under her skin always felt close to the surface, even before she'd learned to shift. As if her skin didn't fit right, was too small to contain the wild in her.

Her parents thought it was her extraordinary sense of smell, overwhelming her underdeveloped brain and sending her into tantrums as a result. But it wasn’t that. Not at all. Cora knew from the day she could walk that she was supposed to be on four legs, running through an open forest with her pack at her side. She was a _wolf,_ not a girl.

But the rest of the world didn’t know that.

The rest of the world treated her as it did all women- with disrespect, leering manners, always with some vile hidden motive. She’d learned early on of the bond between all women, the shared glances and solidarity when a man leaned too far into their space.

Cora could never settle in her human skin. Maybe it was the unwanted touches, the ogling stares and strangers pressed into her space. Pushing, grabbing, coercing.

Every man who wanted to touch her would always be taking too much, trying to tame the wild in her, never just letting her be. She couldn’t- _wouldn’t_ accept that. She wouldn’t cage herself for someone who would never understand and appreciate what she was. A Hale. A wolf. A woman.

Cora was like all women, in that way. Scraped knees and messy hair and bared teeth, fighting tooth and nail against a society that didn’t respect women- hated them, even.

She learned the value of “fuck you.” Even when she was still and quiet, some part of her always raged against the world. A ‘fuck you’ to every bad part of it, every “smile, sweetheart,” every derogatory comment or probing gaze.

And oh, it would be so easy to let the wolf free. To take all that rage and hurt and helplessness and channel it into making someone else hurt. Someone who deserved it.

She was careful to tamper those urges back down. To soothe the wolf inside of her snarling for blood. To muzzle that vicious part of her that the rest of her pack didn't seem to have.

So she tamed the wolf enough to fit seamlessly into her pack. She slipped, occasionally. When her mother pressed for details of her love life, wondering why Cora didn’t love like her other children did.

Cora’s family was enough for her. She didn't need a partner, never lied awake at night aching for someone to love her back. That part of her wasn't empty, not at all- it was already filled, by her friends and family and pack.

She had all she desired. She didn’t need her “other half.” Cora was already whole. She was fierce and bold and savage, a raging storm against the world. She was a snarling wolf, a force of nature, lethal and fearless.  

And that was enough for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reread this and was like "wow, I put a lot of my personal issues into this" lol. But in all honesty, Cora's the one I relate to the most here. I put a lot of my anger into Cora's words so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	6. Jane & Julian Scenes

"Why is it that most of our outings end in some variance of dead bodies and destruction?" Jane stared around the lab with her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Darcy propped her hands on her hips and assessed the green goop dripping from the ceiling. "Because you have an admirable knack for trouble and a historically short temper?"

_ “Me?”  _ Jane demanded. “I have a knack for trouble?” 

“I’m sorry,  _ who _ just opened a gateway to space with her magical powers?” Darcy gestured at the half-destroyed lab. “Look what your little space pet did, Jane!” 

“He wasn’t a  _ space pet, _ he was… Well, Thor told me what it was called but I can’t actually pronounce the name.” 

“He ate the little robot Tony built me! And then tried to eat us!” 

“You still didn’t have to blow him up, Darce, honestly.” 

“What else was I supposed to do?” 

“Well, if  _ someone _ hadn’t thrown our backup plan off of a bridge last week...” 

“Because it was on  _ fire!” _

In the safety of the hallway, Bucky and Tony watched the two women argue surrounded by splattered alien guts. Behind them, Clint sighed heavily and passed Natasha a handful of cash. 

~*~ 

Darcy slid out of the cab and approached Inferno, smiling at the familiar heavy bass thumping inside. 

“Sentinel Lewis,” the bouncer greeted, stepping aside to open the door for her. As always, the line of supernaturals craned their necks to get a better look, whispering excitedly at the sight of her. 

“Hey, Jason,” Darcy said in return. “Married life treating you well?” 

A bashful grin. “It is.” 

“Tell Drew I said hi!” Darcy called as she entered the loud club. Jason nodded with a smile and let the door close behind her. 

The guard at the foot of the stairs watched her approach. “Lewis,” he said, friendly. “Been a while.” 

Darcy ducked past the warded line and climbed the stairs with him. “Tell me about it,” she commiserated. “I’ve been running around for months now without a break, Alaric. I just want a drink and a nap.” 

“No rest for heroes,” Alaric said with a wink. 

“Ugh.” Darcy rolled her eyes. “Not you, too.” 

“Hey, you closed a Hellmouth,” he reminded her. “But anyway, _ I _ was referring to the runes you put together for Lana.” 

Darcy brightened. “Oh, are they still helping?” 

“Yeah, she’s not puking her guts up all the time,” Alaric said gratefully. “This is the least miserable pregnancy she’s ever had, thanks to you.” 

“Anytime,” Darcy said seriously. “My best friend is pregnant, too, and she’s having the first trimester from hell. I sympathize.” 

“Thanks again, Lewis,” Alaric said. He knocked once on Julian’s closed office door and left with a wink. 

Darcy shoved the door open without waiting for an answer. Julian’s eyes flicked to her from his seat behind the desk, his mouth fixed around a woman’s neck. “Whoops,” Darcy said, unapologetic. “He didn’t say you were busy.” 

The woman in Julian’s lap let out a trembling sigh, shivering in his lap. Darcy glanced over, noted the blissed-out expression of the man sprawled out on the couch. “Good night?” She asked him, amused. 

“Mmm,” was the only answer she got from the human. By now, she was familiar with the humans- often with diluted Fae blood that gave them the Sight- that enjoyed the experience of feeding a vampire. Julian had quite the flock of human volunteers. 

Julian gently retracted his fangs from the woman’s neck and swiped his tongue over the small puncture marks. They healed over as he stood and carried her over to the couch, where she went boneless and smiled dreamily up at him. 

Darcy headed to the fridge, tossing two bottles of orange juice over to him. Julian caught them and handed one to each human. “Drink,” he instructed kindly. “And eat something before you go back downstairs.” 

“Your harem is growing,” Darcy said under her breath. 

He narrowed his eyes at her and joined her at the bar. “I’ll have you know those two have been volunteering for months now,” he sniffed. “And it certainly beats enthralling a random human on the street.” 

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Darcy popped the cap off of a hard cider and eyed Julian. “Ugh. You look so pleased with yourself.” 

The smug grin only grew wider. He leaned back in the chair, sated. Darcy noted that he always looked better after feeding- his eyes were brighter, his body languid and relaxed. Darcy squinted at him, then at the two humans on the couch. “Did I interrupt before you could get a threesome started?” 

Julian snorted a laugh. “No. I don’t sleep with the humans I feed from. At least, not after I’ve bitten them.” He sighed at her skeptical look. “It’s a very... pleasurable experience, for both parties. Being bitten, that is. As you can see, they are quite affected afterwards.” 

“Ah,” Darcy said in understanding. “Consent gets a little shaky after that, huh?” 

“It does,” he said, amused. “Besides, my sexual tastes run a little different.” 

“Ooh. Which are?” Darcy asked, hopping up on the counter. 

“I prefer women who can think circles around me,” Julian said with a sly grin. He leaned forward, eyed her playfully until she tossed her bottle cap at his head. He caught it with a chuckle. “In all seriousness, I enjoy dating women who know what they want, especially in bed. Those women do tend to be older than twenty-something baby sparks.” 

“Fuck off,” Darcy laughed. 

“And anyway, I hear you’ve shacked up with a legendary assassin,” Julian said. He sighed, melancholy. “How could I ever compete?” 

“You can’t,” Darcy said primly. “Anyway, I came to give you a heads up.” 

“Oh?” He glanced over his shoulder, checking on the humans before refocusing on her. “What about? Another world domination plot?” 

Darcy shuddered. “No, hopefully those are finished for a long time.” She took a sip of her drink and warded their little corner of the room. Julian noticed her armband glow and raised a brow. “As it turns out, Tony Stark is my biological father.” Julian startled badly. “Also, he is now in the know about the supernatural. I haven’t outed you, of course, but I thought you should know.” 

“You thought I should know,” Julian repeated faintly. 

She studied his shell-shocked expression for a moment. “I should probably start at the beginning.” 

“Please do.” 

Darcy sighed and went to get another drink first. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next oneshot: "Darcy Goes to Asgard (To Fight Odin)" 
> 
> Next update: and still, we stand (Naomi's chapter, ft her first meeting with Vahid) on Friday


	7. Darcy Goes to Asgard (To Fight Odin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ll pretend that Loki faked his death in Thor 2 solely to upset Thor, and then promptly went home to freak Thor the fuck out the next time he came back to Asgard. Thor was not very surprised at all, well used to Loki’s shenanigans by now.   
> Frigga and Loki’s magics were linked as a “leash” for him to make him behave- anything he does will take something out of her, too, which of course he won’t risk.

“Thor,” Darcy said evenly as they waited for Heimdall to open the Bifrost for them on the roof of Stark Tower. Jane stood nearby, already opening her end of the space bridge. “Just so you know, if your father is rude to Jane, I’m going to cause a scene.”

“Darcy!” Jane said, exasperated. “We talked about this, it doesn’t matter!” 

“He called you a goat, Jane.” 

Thor winced.  “Lady Darcy, my father can be… difficult. But he only does so out of concern for Asgard’s future, I assure you. He does not intend to deliberately disrespect my Lady Jane.” 

Darcy tilted her head. “And yet he still does.” She eyed the giant prince. “I’m just giving you a heads up, dude, since we’re coming as your guests. This won’t go well if he’s a dick to her.” 

“She _will_ fight the King of Asgard,” Lydia added from across the rooftop, bored. “And I’m not particularly inclined to stop her.” 

“Me either,” Bucky agreed. He dropped their bags and crooked a smile at Darcy. 

Jane looked around at them with wide eyes, as if surprised so many people suddenly defending her honor. Darcy rolled her eyes at the Fae. “Honestly, Jane.” 

“My father will remain diplomatic,” Thor assured them. Lydia raised a skeptical brow but said nothing. Darcy hummed in response and reached for Bucky’s hand when Thor looked to the sky and shouted, “Heimdall, open the Bifrost!” 

“Please,” Darcy added. Just to be polite. She waved to Lydia as the Asgardian bridge exploded into light, connecting with Jane’s end. “Hold down the fort, Lyds.” 

“Oh, I will.” Lydia stepped back and watched as they disappeared into the Bifrost. 

~*~ 

“Well, that was trippy as fuck,” Darcy said when the world stopped spinning. She blinked the bright colors away and looked around, Bucky’s hand still clutched in hers. He grimaced, trying to find his footing as well. 

“Welcome, Sentinel,” a deep voice rumbled. Darcy looked over and then up, up, up, to meet Heimdall’s golden gaze. 

“Hi!” She said cheerfully. “Nice to finally meet you.” 

“Likewise,” Heimdall said, amused. He turned his attention to Bucky. “Soldier, you are welcome here.” Bucky nodded once in acknowledgment, eyes scanning every inch of the chamber. 

Heimdall’s gaze drifted over to Jane. He bowed his head; Darcy noted with interest and amusement that he’d looked straight past Thor to the Fae Queen. “My Lady,” he said. Jane narrowed her eyes at him. The corner of his mouth twitched imperceptibly. He slid his eyes back to Darcy. “This visit will be interesting.” 

“It will,” Darcy agreed. She cocked her head. “Aren’t you the all-seeing, all-knowing Gatekeeper?” 

“I am.” 

“So… you are well aware that this might end in tears.” 

“It is highly likely.” He seemed entirely unconcerned. “But this court can handle a little disruption.” 

“Excellent. Thor, lead the way, buddy. I have a bone to pick with your father.” Thor led them along the bridge, half-heartedly attempting to alleviate Darcy’s righteous anger. She let him talk, barely listening as she stared at the realm with interest. 

Asgard was beautiful and grand, everything Thor had promised. Even still, Darcy was too busy preparing herself for the upcoming confrontation. She’d heard Jane’s stories about the Allfather- she had no delusions about this going well. 

The royal palace was enormous. Darcy shoved her hands in her pockets and fixed a neutral expression on her face. It wouldn’t do for Odin to find first see her as a starstruck, small-minded human. 

Thor took a deep breath before the massive double doors. The court was likely assembled within, with his father on the throne. He reached for Jane’s hand, a surprisingly sweet gesture, and smiled at Darcy. “I am actually looking forward to this,” he confessed. “My father dismisses me as a love-struck fool when it comes to Jane. He will not listen to my call for respect for her.” 

“Is that permission to do my worst?” Darcy asked, delighted. 

“I suppose it is.” Jane looked up at Thor, heart in her eyes. Thor paused. “Please do not start a war, though.” 

“No worries,” Darcy said. “You wouldn’t win, anyway.” Bucky huffed a quiet laugh at the dumbstruck expression on the guards’ faces. He tapped his knuckles to her spine, right between her shoulders. Their non-verbal cue for  _ got your back. _

The doors swung open at Thor’s command. Darcy fell into step beside Thor with her chin raised, Bucky a step behind at her elbow. A hush fell over the gathered nobles at the sight of the strangers. 

Darcy nearly missed a step at the sight of Loki seated behind Odin. Jane must have noticed her surprise, because she leaned in and quietly said, “He’s on probation. Out of the prison on good behavior with the promise to Frigga that he would not risk Asgard again for petty schemes. Who knows how long it’ll actually last.” 

“So she’s doing okay?” 

Jane tipped her head. “Weak, but improving.” She fell silent as their group came to a halt before the steps to the throne. Loki studied the new arrivals closely. Darcy narrowed her eyes at him dangerously when he appeared too interested in the new depth of Jane’s magic. 

“Allfather,” Thor said loudly. Darcy recognized his ‘formal’ voice, the natural way it filled the room. 

“My son,” Odin said, not acknowledging the rest of them. Darcy noticed the absent throne to his left. “You have been absent for some time.” 

Thor’s brow furrowed. “No more than a few months, Father.” 

Odin’s gaze fell to Jane. “Your consort has returned, I see,” he said distastefully. 

Yeah, no. Darcy cleared her throat. “It’s very nice to meet you,” she lied. “I have to say, though, I’m a little surprised at the lack of welcome.” A murmur from the court, surprise at her gall. 

“You are my son’s guests,” Odin retorted. “You are extended every courtesy as such.” 

“Really? This is how you greet a visiting royal?” Jane groaned quietly as shock echoed through the room. 

“I was unaware that the Guardians of earth held themselves in such high regard.” Odin raised a dismissive brow. Loki’s eyes were bright, fascinated. 

“Not me,” Darcy corrected. She gestured to Jane at her side. “Jane Foster is the Unseelie Queen of the Fae realm. A very powerful magical dimension recognized as a full realm, one that Asgard has no legitimate treaty with. Just sayin'.” Darcy shrugged. “I would have thought you’d be more respectful.” 

“She is but a consort, temporary-” 

“Father!” 

“She is a  _ Queen,” _ Darcy interjected fiercely. She let her spark loose a little, spinning all the way into the corners of the room and causing a myriad of nervous muttering. “She is royalty, and  _ I _ am here because I have taken great offense on her behalf.” They could keep their stupid, snobby realm. Darcy’s low opinion of Odin tinted the wonder of it all. Jane was more important.

Odin leaned forward, knuckles white with the force of his grip. Bucky shifted subtly behind Darcy as the king said, “Your magic is no threat to me, child-” 

“Father,” Thor interrupted. “I have personally seen the magnitude of the Lady Darcy’s power, as well as my Lady Jane’s. They are both very, very powerful, and have a great many allies on earth and with the Fae.” He shook his head solemnly. “Asgard would not win this fight.” 

Odin sneered, but a regal presence fell across the room and stopped him from speaking further. Loki’s attention shot to the side and a smug smile crossed his face for a split second before his face was back to careful neutrality, out of Odin’s sightline.

Everyone in the room straightened when Frigga entered. “This is  _ not _ how we treat with a visiting monarch,” she said, irate. She sent Odin a sideways glance that managed to convey every ounce of her disapproval and anger. 

“Welcome back, my son,” she said to Thor. Her gaze drifted across the group of visitors. “Queen Jane, please accept my apology for the treatment you have received thus far.” 

“Really, it’s nothing-” Darcy elbowed her in the side. Jane shot her a glare and ground out, “Apology accepted, Lady Frigga. Thank you.” 

Frigga eyed Odin for a moment and then turned her attention to Loki, who seemed to brighten under her gaze. “Loki, my son, you are as capable as I in detecting magics. For your father’s consideration, what is your opinion on our visitors’ capabilities?” 

Loki lounged artfully in his seat, green eyes settling on Darcy and Jane. Darcy felt his own magic brush against hers, then Jane’s, and watched with interest when the skin around his eyes tightened. “Between the two women alone... “ He shrugged, the movement lazy and unconcerned. “They could likely reduce this palace to rubble. Possibly even the city.” Fearful murmurings behind them.

“But they would not,” Thor added hastily. “They are my friends.” 

“I mean, I  _ might, _ if Odin’s bitch ass doesn’t shut the hell up,” Darcy muttered aside to Jane. Loki coughed politely, a hand raised to cover his mouth. Darcy eyed him suspiciously. 

“Darcy!” Jane hissed. Bucky’s shoulders were shaking from where he was pressed close to Darcy’s back. 

“What? You were thinking it, too,” Darcy whispered back. 

“Your visitors are welcome,” Odin said through gritted teeth when Frigga stared at him expectantly. “I have business to attend to.” He swept out of the room, the assembled court hushed and uncertain. 

Loki watched him go with hooded eyes until Frigga touched her fingertips to the back of his hand. “You may visit with your brother, if you wish,” she told him quietly. 

“Father said-” 

“He says much, doesn’t he?” Frigga spoke softly so that her voice didn’t carry past Darcy and the others. The Queen of Asgard pursed her lips. “Consider it an opportunity to meet others with magic,” she suggested. “You could learn much from each other.” 

Darcy raised a brow at Loki’s snort. He looked at her with skepticism, only to find her flat stare already focused on him. She let her tattoos glow a little brighter, shining through her clothing as a warning for the God of Mischief. Darcy would not tolerate any bullshit today, especially not from him. 

“So,” Bucky murmured in her ear. “You realize you just threatened the King of Asgard with war.” 

She leaned back into him. “I did,” Darcy said, unrepentant. “He was an asshole to Jane.” 

_ “Trouble,” _ he called her with a gentle tug on her braid. She just grinned up at him. 

“It seems I have a few things to rectify,” Frigga said to Jane, descending the stairs with Loki at her back. This close, Darcy could see the strain on her face from the excessive movement. She and Bucky both made an aborted gesture to help, which did not go unnoticed by Loki. 

Or Frigga, who smiled kindly at them. “Sentinel Lewis, it is an honor to finally meet you. I have watched you grow for many years.” She clasped Darcy’s hand between her own. “You have come so far.” Darcy ducked her head, feeling her cheeks warm under the Queen’s unexpected praise. 

Frigga turned to Bucky. “You have suffered,” she murmured. “But your future looks bright, that much I can tell.” She reached for Jane when Bucky could only blink slightly damp eyes in response. 

“We must discuss treaties,” Frigga said to Jane. “Of course, so long as you are willing after earlier.” 

“I- yes. We can.” Jane sent Darcy a desperate glance over her shoulder as the Queen guided her away. Thor waved to Jane like the little shit he was. 

“She’ll be fine,” Darcy said. “She got the Unseelie Court under control in a matter of hours.” 

Loki lingered on the stairs, watching his mother go. Thor clapped him on the shoulder in greeting. “Brother. How is your rehabilitation?” 

Darcy choked on a laugh. "Yeah, how is rehab?" 

Loki shot her a glare. “A better question,” he said primly. “Is how your little pack of mongrels is on earth?”

She sobered abruptly. “What do you know about the pack?” 

“Werewolves,” he sniffed. “How trite.” 

“Says the so-called God of Mischief currently on a baby leash for bad behavior,” Darcy drawled. She felt a flare of magic arrow for her. Darcy blocked it with hardly any effort and bared her teeth in a smile. “Cute.” 

“Loki, please,” Thor sighed, long-suffering. “Do not start a fight.” 

“As you would certainly not win,” Lady Sif said as she approached. 

“Sif!” Darcy hugged the lady warrior excitedly. 

“It is good to see you,” Sif told her. She smiled down at the spark. “You look well, Sentinel.” She eyed Bucky. “And your new companion is most handsome.” 

Bucky was momentarily taken aback as Darcy cackled. “He is,” Darcy agreed. “James Barnes, meet Lady Sif, the biggest badass on Asgard.” 

Sif studied him with interest as he shook her hand. “You are a fierce warrior on earth, yes?” 

“I… Yes?” 

“Come,” Sif said. She looped Darcy’s arm through her own and tugged her towards the door. “We must spar. I would like to test your skills against my own.” 

“She likes to fight,” Darcy said with a shrug at Bucky’s baffled expression. “I learned lots from her the last time she visited earth.” She grabbed Bucky’s hand and dragged him along. “See ya later, Thor!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy: (ง'̀-'́)ง


	8. Merry Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little late, but I was reading the comments you guys left and was feeling all emotional (& slightly tipsy) and wrote this after a very extensive and somewhat violent game of cards with my family. Now I'm going to bed because it is SUPER late here.

“Put it on or suffer the consequences,” Erica said brightly. She smiled with her fangs on full display when Bucky looked skeptically at the sweater. Darcy peered at it, impressed. It was truly a monstrosity.

“Don’t argue,” Stiles advised as he breezed by them. He was wearing his own sweater, with blinking Christmas lights that spelled out entirely inappropriate words for a family setting. “She fights mean.” 

Bucky sighed and tugged it over his head. His expression was long-suffering, but Darcy caught the brief, tiny smile that crossed his face when Erica cheered at her victory. 

Boyd rejoined his wife with Isobel in his arms, the werewolf wearing matching elf outfits with Erica and the baby. “Congrats, babe. Another victim.” He shared a grin with Darcy when Steve hesitantly stepped through the door and was immediately accosted by the she-wolf. Sam, already wearing his own, joined in the brief argument. 

“It’s this or the onesie,” Erica threatened. “And it’s a size small.” 

“But surprisingly soft,” Peter said from the kitchen.  _ “You _ would certainly fill it out well.” He winked at Steve as Sam and Erica cackled behind him. 

Natasha stepped gracefully down the stairs in her own onesie and leveled Steve with a glare. The super soldier caved and reached for the sweater, shooting Bucky a narrow-eyed look when he wolf-whistled. 

“I’m Jewish,” Maria told him. “And I cooperated with this insanity. Suck it up, soldier.” 

Noah tumbled into the room then, as bright-eyed as he’d been since they’d brought him home. The little werewolf skidded to a stop in front of Steve and leaned back to stare up at him. “We match,” Noah said solemnly. 

Darcy and Bucky turned as one when Derek entered the room with a jar filled with tongue depressors. “Patrol,” he explained. “Draw.” Darcy sighed and obediently drew a stick from the jar. She wrinkled her nose when Bucky showed her the stick he drew. 

“Guess I’m taking the next shift,” she grumbled. “Even though it’s cold outside.” She turned her own stick around. “Hey, Allison! We’re on patrol next.” 

“Okay,” Allison said, appearing out of nowhere. She’d been taking lessons from Clint and Natasha and the rest of the pack suffered for it. “Let me get my bow.” 

Steve frowned at Darcy. “You have to do regular patrols? Is it unsafe?” 

Darcy shrugged. “Not unsafe, really. But when this many supernaturals are together, it draws others. Plus, the nemeton is like a beacon for every supernatural creature within a hundred miles.” 

“Regular patrols keep things calm,” Derek added. “It shows anyone watching that we can’t be caught off guard.” 

“Last year we caught the infestation of brownies before they could charge the house,” Kira piped up from the couch. 

_ “Brownies? _ What?” Sam looked between them all, baffled. 

Darcy left Derek to explain that particular story. She pressed a kiss to Bucky’s cheek and started winding her way through the crowded house to join Allison outside. Peter and Chris were pouring drinks for Andrew and Tony. Darcy narrowed her eyes at them- they were laughing about something, and she had that sixth sense of a kid that it was about her. 

Though she  _ was _ glad that the men got along as well as they did, was genuinely thrilled that Tony was welcomed by the other father figures in her life. But still. She’d have to interrupt that little bonding moment so they didn’t start sharing embarrassing stories about her. 

“Ready?” Allison said. She was also dressed in an elf costume, smiling brightly with a massive bow in her hands. A quiver full of arrows hung across her back. “Who’s our third?” 

Darcy looked around. “Derek was supposed to find someone else to draw since he just got off patrol.” The system had taken a while to establish, mostly because the ‘wolves accused each other of cheating. Which was likely, after Jackson was once drawn for patrol four times in a row. 

Three random humans- pack members or not- had to draw for the next patrol. The previous three patrolling members were allowed to keep their sticks out of the rotation only once, after Jackson’s insistence.  To be fair, it  _ had _ been a rough night for Jackson. Kelpies in the lake, brownies in the forest, and a particularly vicious harpy that came to cause mayhem. 

“Derek cheated,” Stiles muttered as he joined them. “I don’t know how he managed it when he let Chris choose the stick, but he cheated.” 

“Poor baby,” Allison said, unaffected. “C’mon, we have a lot of ground to cover.” 

They set along the familiar path, stepping confidently through the woods that had been their home for so many years. Stiles and Darcy veered unconsciously towards the nemeton. Allison followed, as familiar as the rest of the pack with the sparks’ tendency to seek out the power source. 

“It’s happy,” Stiles murmured. He had a small, crooked smile on his face. It was genuine and warmed Darcy’s heart to see it. 

“It’s got a healthy, stable pack here,” Allison pointed out. 

“And two sparks,” Darcy added. 

Allison tipped her head in thought. “I still don’t understand how these things work, exactly. Nemetons, I mean.” She glanced at the sprawling tree, so massive that it was obviously unnatural. “And what sparks have to do with them.” 

Stiles was conspicuously silent. It was so unusual that Allison and Darcy both stopped in their tracks to stare at him. 

“What?” He asked, doing a double take at their twin stares. 

“What do you mean, what, you nerd? You’re always rambling about this stuff,” Darcy told him. 

Stiles shifted. It was distinctively suspicious. “I may have come across some information. Or, well, I guess Kira technically found it. She brought me an ancient book from wherever she was last month. It has some stuff about the creation of nemetons.” The last words were a mumble. 

“What?!” Darcy squawked. “You have information like that and you haven’t shown me yet?!” 

“I was trying to validate it first!” Stiles protested. “I don’t like handing out unreliable information, you know this! Ow!” He rubbed at his shoulder and hid behind Allison. 

“Tell me, you dick!” Darcy tripped him with a thread of her magic. 

“Ugh.” Stiles stood back up and brushed his clothes off. “Fine. But just know, this is all potentially unsound information.” 

“Yeah, yeah, get on with it.” Allison nudged him with her bow. 

“Supposedly,” Stiles said grandly, waving his hands around. The women dodged his flailing limbs with ease, well accustomed to the spark’s spastic mannerisms. “Sparks had something to do with the creation of nemetons.” 

Darcy frowned in thought. Nemetons were convergences of telluric currents, a merging of power that ran throughout the earth for thousands and thousands of miles. It’s power was so magnetic that supernatural creatures for miles could feel it. How could a spark manage to create something that powerful? 

“How?” She asked. 

“By channeling all of the power into a single object, something alive that would grow with each passing year of peace. A stable territory, that the magic could return to and protect.” 

“The trees,” Allison realized. 

Stiles nodded. “They used trees because it worked so well the first time. It’s a lot of magic to put through one object, even a living one, but trees naturally spread out. They’re connected for miles under the earth, and evidently there’s some sort of connection between a natural expansion like tree roots and magic currents that run along the same lines.” 

“So the loss of sparks in the past…” Darcy trailed off, thinking about the stories of dying or shriveling nemeton’s she’d heard of. Nemetons that lost their power, or became unstable and unsafe to live near. 

“No spark, no nemeton,” Stiles finished for her. “The nemetons will die out of become corrupted without that balance, without a spark walking the earth.” 

“The nemeton here never went crazy, though, and Darcy didn’t arrive for a while,” Allison pointed out. 

“I think my mom had something to do with it,” Stiles said, somewhat shy. He ducked his head. “I think she helped stabilize this nemeton years ago, way before I was even born. And the Hales have been here for centuries. A stable werewolf pack, a spark to keep it stable, and two more that regularly return? It’s probably the most stable nemeton in the world.” 

“That would make sense,” Darcy mused. 

Allison shook her head. “It does, but it also means the supernaturals basically wrote their own death warrants when they tried to kill off all the sparks. Without them, the nemetons would all be corrupted eventually and would self-destruct.” 

“Irony, you fickle bitch,” Darcy sighed. “Of course, they could just  _ stop trying to kill us.” _

“That’d be so nice,” Stiles said wistfully. 

“Well,” Allison said, amused. “We got through a patrol without anything trying to kill us. That’s progress.” 

“It’s early yet, Alli,” Stiles said darkly as they approached the house. 

Darcy laughed and looked through the windows at Bucky, who was surrounded by her family, laughing and talking and trying to smother him with their attempts to subtly scent mark him. “We’ll be all right,” she told them in an uncharacteristic show of optimism. 

Stiles hooked an arm around her neck. “Sap,” he teased, and dragged her through the door to join the celebration. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, for those of you that celebrate it! If not, I hope you had a great Tuesday!
> 
> Next up: Maya and Braeden burning down the McAllister's bar (which was wayyyy back in the first part of the series, mentioned by Sophia in an early chapter. I just had to write it. I had to. And it was super fun.)


	9. Maya and Braeden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI this scene is only referenced in the first part of this verse- Sophia mentions it to Darcy in one of the early chapters, but I apparently needed to write it so here you go~

Maya climbed out of the rental car with a weary sigh as Braeden slammed the driver’s side door. They both eyed the McAllister’s bar with distaste. It was heavily isolated, more of a secluded base of operations for hunters than a local drinking spot. Though the McAllisters _were_ creating a name for themselves in the extremist circles, and it certainly showed in the number of visiting hunters.

“Why did we stop here again?” Maya muttered as a drunk pair of hunters stumbled out of the bar and slowed to leer at the two women. She ignored their slurred words, deciding not to waste her energy by acknowledging them.

Braeden merely reached down to finger the lethal blade sheathed on her hip until the hunters scurried away, cringing under the woman’s flat gaze. “We need information,” the mercenary reminded Maya. “And _I_ need a break from this damn car. Couldn’t you have picked one with functioning A/C?”

“Hey, you said cheap and inconspicuous.” Maya grinned when Braeden sneered in response.

They passed a row of motorcycles lined up in the front parking spots. High quality, expensive bikes, Maya noticed. It probably meant that a few McAllisters were inside- they were a new but large hunting establishment, after all, with enough fingers in the weapons business that the family had quite a lucrative income.

Bastards.

Maya hated hunters like the McAllisters. They were bullies, and very few actually followed the Code. Not that anyone could catch them at it, or even do anything about it. The Sentinels were gone now, and there weren’t many supernaturals strong enough to keep hunters like this in check. Fewer still were willing to make themselves a target by doing so. 

“I see slaughter still pays well,” Braeden said under her breath at the sight of the bikes. She and Maya shared a dark look.

Braeden squared her shoulders and kicked the door open, entering with a confident stalk that practically _dared_ someone to approach her. Maya waited a beat before following, taking a moment to appreciate her friend’s flair for the dramatic and ability to strike fear into the heart of men.

A brief stop at the bar for a couple of beers, and then, “Get lost, Rhodes,” Braeden told a small cluster of men in the corner table. The lanky man glanced up from his beer, flicked his gaze from Braeden, to Maya at her back, and promptly decided to relocate. His friends followed, eyeing the women curiously.

“You’re such a dick,” Maya said, trying to smother a laugh. She tipped her head at the empty table beside them and raised a brow.

Braeden grinned at her. “They need a little reminder every now and then.”

“To not fuck with you?”

“And that there’s a reason I’m the best damn hunter on the west coast.” She punctuated this with a smug smile, propping her booted feet up on the empty chair beside Maya.

“Bullshit,” Maya scoffed. “I’ve got you beat and you know it.”

“You’re delusional, babe, but okay.”

They both quieted as a rowdy group of men broke into laughter across the room. Braeden eyed them dangerously for a moment.

“Trouble?” Maya murmured. She rolled her shoulders, feeling for the weapons harness underneath her jacket.

“Not yet.” But the way Braeden watched the group meant trouble. For Maya, probably. For them, definitely.

Maya nodded and took a sip of her beer. She subtly nudged her chair a few inches to the side for a better vantage point and lounged back in the seat.

Braeden flicked her gaze to one of the nearby tables. One of the men noticed and nearly spilled his beer all down his shirt in his haste to appear worth her time. Maya hid a smirk into her drink and let her friend do the talking.

“Easton,” Braeden greeted.

“Doin’ okay, Braeden?” The hunter asked. He rested an arm over the back of his chair in a clear attempt to look suave.

“Mm.” The mercenary tipped her head. “I was fine, until I got wind of a pack of ‘wolves making their way over from the east coast.”

At that, two of the other men turned around. “You’re looking at the rogue pack?”

“Rogue pack?” Braeden raised a brow. “They’ve got enough momentum to be considered rogue?”

“They’re lookin’ for power,” another hunter grunted. “A lot of it.”

Somehow, that statement carried across the room and caught the attention of the loud table of McAllisters and company. “Lots of power, huh? Bet I know where they’ll be lookin’ next.” A low chuckle at that. Maya’s hand tightened on her beer bottle.

“If we don’t beat ‘em to it, that is.” Loud laughter at this, with sly looks and leering grins shared between the men.

“Heard the spark is young and pretty.”

“Just your type, right, Jace?” A low agreement from a large man in the corner, followed by a nasty suggestion that had Braeden reaching instinctively for her gun. 

Braeden met Maya’s eyes then, the skin around her eyes tight. Maya sighed in defeat, though the furious tension in her own body had her nearly levitating off of her chair. This shit wouldn’t go unchallenged, not if she could do anything about it. Not when she had the power to hold men like this at bay, even just for a little while.

She spun in her chair to face the room with a bland smile. “You’re going to want to rethink those plans, McAllister.”

The bar quieted as the men turned towards her. “Excuse me?”

“That’s Maya Ito,” one of the hunters murmured. It sounded like a warning. “And Braeden.”

"Holy shit," came a quiet whisper from someone in the bar. 

“So?” McAllister- one of the older cousins, anyway- demanded. He walked forward a few swaggering steps, puffed up and sneering. “You think you can just walk into my bar and tell me what I can and can’t do? Sweetheart, you’ve lost your damn mind.”

“Beacon Valley is under my mother’s protection,” Maya said calmly. “We’re allied with the Hales in Beacon Hills, and I have a personal interest in seeing to the spark’s safety.”

“Is that right?” Maybe to another, to one of the men standing at his back, McAllister’s tone sounded dangerous. Maya just heard an arrogant man high on killing without limitations. She’d fought bigger- better- men than him, and had left them all with their egos and (sometimes their bodies) in pieces. 

“Yeah,” Maya told him. “It is. You’re going to stay out of Beacon Hills, far away from the spark _and_ the packs there, or I’ll deal with you myself.” She almost rolled her eyes when McAllister drew a gun and pointed it in her direction.

“So cliche,” Braeden said on a sigh behind her. A handful of hunters slipped out the back doors, hoping to avoid the upcoming fight. “Time’s up,” Braeden called. “I’m out of patience with you fuckers.”

And with that, she drew her gun and shot the lights above the men before anyone could so much as blink. Shattered glass rained down on the group. They ducked, covering their heads, as Braeden and Maya flipped the two heavy wooden tables onto their sides and crouched behind it for cover.

“So,” Braeden said casually as Maya slid her own guns from the shoulder harness. The dark-skinned woman flicked her eyes pointedly to the bar. “I think these guys will need a permanent reminder to stay away.”

The mercenary darted across the bar, unconcerned with the bullets flying everywhere. Maya grumbled under her breath but whirled onto her knees to give Braeden cover all the same. Braeden planted a hand on the bar counter and launched herself over it, knocking out the bartender with a vicious elbow to the temple as Maya continued to lay down a steady rain of bullets.

“Bitch!” McAllister shrieked in pain. Maya grinned to herself from behind her cover- she’d hit him after all. “You come in _my_ bar, challenge _me,_ and expect to get out of here alive? I'll kill you both for this!”

She spun back onto her knees, fired a few shots at the men edging towards the bar where Braeden was crouched with an armful of bottles. Maya ducked as a volley of bullets came her way. The bullets thudded deep into the table and she winced, knowing it wouldn’t hold up much longer.

A low, two toned whistle sounded. Maya rolled to the next table over and shoved it over as Braeden stood and hurled two bottles at the group of men. They shouted in alarm as the bottles exploded violently upon impact.

Fire licked up the walls of the bar. It spread rapidly, as did all of the fires Braeden started. “Pyro,” Maya muttered as she fired a few warning shots. Braeden leapt back over the bar and joined her. She was panting but had a wild grin on her face.

“Ready?” Braeden asked. “I set a fuse behind the bar. We should definitely leave now.” Maya gaped at her. “Like _right now,”_ Braeden said with some urgency.

“Why did you have- you know what? Never mind.” Maya and Braeden made for the exit, covering each other in the kind of effortless synchronization borne from years of fighting at each other’s backs.

The doors slammed shut behind them. They jogged off the porch, Maya swinging around to watch their backs in case any hunters tried to follow them and get revenge. She swore when a series of small explosions sounded from inside the building. Heat blistered at her back as the building burned.

Maya groaned. “Soph’s never gonna let me live this down.”

Braeden just laughed and holstered her guns. She tapped a finger on the engine of the closest motorcycle. “Arrogant shit heads left the keys.”

Maya tilted her head and singled out the bike that had caught her eye on the way in. “Well... I _have_ been looking for a new ride.”

“Well, then, whaddya know?” Braeden drawled.  “It's your lucky day, babe.” She tossed Maya a helmet from the seat of her bike. “Let’s go.” She pulled another helmet on, started the engine, and sped off.

The bar continued to burn, shouts from the hunters rising above the roar of the flames. Maya took one last look at the bar and smiled darkly to herself. News of this fight would spread fast, and the hunter community would know to take it as it was intended- as a warning. As a promise.

She spun the bike in place and then gunned the engine, headed for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two badass women burning down a bar together. Y'know, like girls do.


	10. Volaris - The Dragon Realm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I have been 100% unable to find the energy/motivation to write, but then some people commented some super nice things on my fics and I came home from work and wrote this whole thing in one evening. 
> 
> It's also probably because I've really, really missed Naomi. And I have so much world building done for the dragon realm and I'm really enjoying it.

Chapter 10 

Naomi kept her hood up and slipped through the shadows like a wraith in the darkness. The heavy beat of wings overhead, a sound she’d become accustomed to in the last year in this new world, covered her footsteps as she glided along the pale stone street. 

Vahid, she prayed, would be delayed for hours longer at the royal celebration. The palace hummed with magic and music behind her, and the evening’s soft rain would cleanse the path of her magic from the streets. No one would follow her trail tonight. 

The thought soothed the edge of her wariness, tempering the fearful paranoia. 

The new world’s City of Dragons was not for the weak-willed, as it floated miles above the ground. Surrounded on all sides by waterfalls from the ocean, the city housed thousands upon thousands of dragons. It had taken her months to learn the pale, stone streets well enough to walk without notice. 

Naomi whirled into a deeper shadow at a noise ahead and froze in place. A door ahead swung open and two young men tumbled out of the bar, tangled together in an intimate embrace. Naomi didn’t move from her hiding place as they passed her, too entranced with each other to notice the spark lurking in the darkness. 

She breathed a sigh of relief when they turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Volaris’s second of three suns rested overhead, strong enough to provide only the weakest of light. Truly, the approaching moon would have been brighter. 

Everything about this world was different, Naomi thought as she adjusted her short braid. A loud thud sounded from inside a house, followed by hysterical laughter. 

Well. Not everything, maybe. Wry amusement curled at the corner of her mouth for a moment, until a loud cheer from the palace reminded her of her task. 

Today was Princess Esteri’s one hundredth birthday, and the most-adored royal daughter preferred her parties bright and loud and full of people. A perfect chance for Naomi to slip away unnoticed, with Vahid swarmed by dragons pestering him about Earth and councilmen hovering over the discussions. 

Naomi crept along a smaller road, far enough from the palace that the lights and sound became distant distractions. She tapped in the pre-arranged signal, the first two measures of the late Prime Rosana’s song. 

Kings and Queens, she’d learned from a haughty advisor, were mere  _ human _ titles. Dragon leaders were entitled Prime, and Prime Darius now ruled after his father’s death. Both dragons had passed half a century before Naomi and Vahid even arrived in Volaris, though the eldest child seemed to have accepted the mantle without much disruption. 

A tap sounded at the door from the inside, a hesitant continuation of the song composed for Rosana after her death. A signal between rebels, a sign of good faith between those risking it all. 

“What news, Lady Spark?” Came the fearful whisper. 

“I’ve come to collect,” Naomi murmured back. She heard a sharp gasp, followed by the sound of someone darting away. Unconcerned, she glanced back at the road and squinted. Covered by the heavy cloak, a set of tattooed runes glowed white-gold on her calf. Magic washed away with the gentle rain, covering her tracks. 

This was a world made of magic, from the mountains to the ocean and all the way down to every little rock and blade of grass. It grabbed at everything living, greedy for wayward strands of magic to keep for itself. Naomi developed runes to see those magics only months ago, but it quickly became invaluable- for herself, but mostly for others. 

For people like this, Naomi thought as the door swung open to reveal a thin woman with fever-bright eyes. The young girl on her hip blinked curiously at Naomi with grey eyes. She looked only a little healthier than her mother, too skinny and watchful in a way that children should never be. Most astonishing, though, and the reason for Naomi’s clandestine journey, was the small pair of grey-white wings protruding from the girl’s back. 

“Her cloak,” Naomi urged. She glanced over her shoulder, concerned, and released a sigh of relief when the wings were hidden under a thick cloak. 

A dragonling, dragon offspring born from dragon parents, did not possess wings in their human form. No dragon did- they could shift into one form or the other, but never a combination of the two. Which meant that this young girl was something different. Something more. 

Her mother handed Naomi one of the two bags she carried and followed the spark out into the rain. “Frey, you must keep very quiet,” the mother whispered. Frey nodded solemnly, but she peeked at Naomi nonetheless. 

“Does the father know?” Naomi murmured. She led the way through the dim streets, wrinkling her nose at the dark, washed-out red from the second sun’s light. She hated second sun, but it was the darkest time of day in this strange world. 

“About her?” The woman shook her head at Naomi’s raised brow. “No. I managed to hide her when they appeared two days ago.” 

“What else doesn’t he know?” Naomi asked, wondering at the woman’s hesitance. 

“I am only half human,” she said; her hands trembled on her daughter. Naomi resisted a smile- her theory had just been confirmed. 

“You’re half human and half dragon?” The spark confirmed. At the woman’s nod, Naomi eyed Frey, the dragonling with the suspicious grey eyes. “So she’s…” 

“Elven. Yes. I had hoped…” The mother blinked rapidly and pressed her face into Frey’s tumble of curls. “She will not be safe here.” 

“That’s why you reached out to the emissaries?” Emissaries had a far different role here in Volaris than they did back home. To be called an emissary usually meant a death sentence, as the secret organization began centuries ago in order to destabilize Prime Sargon’s rule. 

Prime Darius and, more importantly, Princess and General Soraya did not consider them much of a threat, even as they became violent in response to the royal family’s disregard. Soon after Sargon’s death, a group split from the instigators, a group dedicated to keeping  _ all _ Beings safe from harm. 

This group approached Naomi only six weeks into her stay in the palace with Vahid. A network comprised of hundreds, with more spies tucked away throughout the city. 

“I reached out to the emissaries because my husband does not consider the elves to be…” 

“Dragonkin?” 

“‘Worth letting live,’ are his words from a week ago. I decided the second Frey presented as Elven that we had to leave him.” 

Naomi quietly admired the woman’s spine of steel. Where they were going wasn’t necessarily safer by any means- but no one would try to kill a little girl because she wasn’t dragon enough. 

“You know where we’re going?” A hint of nerves crept through the woman’s voice. 

“I do. The path is marked, and I walked it early this morning to check for any surprises. We’re hidden now from sight and magic.” Too many dragons say elves- and humans, for that matter- as nothing more than vermin. Imposters, abominations to be stomped out of their lines. But when they slept repeatedly with the thousands of human men and women that passed through the nearby markets, such offspring often had strange gifts and talents. 

Magical talents, such as elemental magics, long life spans, enhanced senses and speed. And most recently discovered, offspring whose lineage meant they had ¾ dragon blood, developed wings in their early years. 

Magic could be hidden, if its wielder were careful and clever enough. But wings, on a child whose mother was supposed to be only human, would not. Dragons were slow to accept change and had a superiority complex that possessed the species as a whole. Strange, winged children would not be welcomed by the all-powerful Beings of Volaris. 

Which meant that they had to hide. 

“Who is she?” Frey whispered at Naomi’s back. 

“A Sentinel, love. She’s come to help us. Now shh.” 

“We’re here,” Naomi announced quietly. She stood at the edge of the city and stared out across the expanse of empty space. A distant, steady roar reached her ears- the sound of the ocean falling miles below, into the great unknown. 

“Now what?” The mother whispered anxiously. She tucked Frey closer to her body when the little girl leaned over to peer at the abrupt drop-off. “Lady, the ocean isn’t accessible from here. It’s miles out, and it encircles the city completely.” 

“Yes, and then reaches its own cliffs to fall a thousand miles below us,” Naomi finished. She waved a hand, fighting impatience. “I’m new here, but not that new.” She pointed. “There is a path. It’s dangerous, but if we can get far enough below, someone will meet us to take you and your daughter to safety.” 

She adjusted the sword strapped to her waist- so slender and lightweight that sometimes she forgot she wore it, much less that it could cut stone in half. “I can’t use much magic or else anyone nearby will feel, but I can carry Frey. We have to climb down the side of the city foundation, and it’s a hard climb.” 

Nearly impossible, actually, and had many places where they would be essentially hanging over empty space. Without her magic, Naomi would have to be careful. “I can strap Frey to me and hide her in my cloak.” 

Frey leaned wordlessly into Naomi’s outstretched arms. She wrapped her tiny arms around Naomi’s neck, legs around her waist, and pinned her wings to her back. “Good girl,” Naomi whispered. She adjusted her cloak so that it covered the small elven girl, noting that her ears tapered to a point a few inches longer than a human’s would. 

Carefully, Naomi created a small net of her magic to secure Frey to her own body. The runes sewed inside the cloak warmed as they trapped the excess magic before it could escape and be noticed.

After Naomi gave quiet instructions, the women began the terrible climb down the misshapen base. Frey clung tightly to Naomi, but the spark felt the elf’s interest in the massive structure holding the city afloat through an unknown but endless power. 

“If  _ I _ found a city in the sky,” Naomi muttered, “I would at least want to know what kept it floating before I moved a bunch of stupid dragons to it.” Frey giggled in her ear and Naomi resisted a smile. 

“You’re doing great, kid. Does this scare you? It’s very dark down below.” 

“Momma says good people live down there,” Frey said in a child’s too-loud whisper. Her mother heard and paused to smile back at her daughter. 

“We think so, anyway.” It wasn’t safe for anyone to know specifics about the elven camps. No one wanted to risk the dragons finding them; they’d be killed or experimented on, or treated as pets. A number of dragons, Naomi had learned, possessed the same horrible traits that some humans did. A monstrous human was ugly enough, but dragons were creatures of might and magic. They had no bounds, worrisome morals, and staggering arrogance. 

“Stop here,” Naomi ordered. She tucked herself into the alcove, worried about the narrow ledge. Frey fiddled with Naomi’s braid, interested in the golden beads that shone against her dark hair. The spark wrapped a hand around the mother’s elbow to keep her steady as the wind buffeted them. The two women could barely fit together in the small space, but at least it was warm against the windchill. 

At that thought, Naomi paused. Where had the wind come from? It was a still, quiet night only moments ago. 

Her companion gasped, loud enough that Naomi let her spark surge to the surface, ready to blast a dragon in the face and escape. But no dragon hunted them, no dragon realized that anyone had escaped the city grounds. 

In the dim light far beyond their reach, the air rippled. No, Naomi realized. Not the air. A  _ sail. _

A ship soared through the sky of the second sun towards them, painted so eerily similar to the tinted light that it appeared invisible down below, where so little light reached. A small vessel, it skimmed along the air currents as its sails stretched to extreme limits. 

Naomi’s eyes caught on the figures darting around the ship as it approached, realizing that three elves with wind-gifts were sailing the ship through the sky. Utterly silent, it soared past them and around, twisting effortlessly through the air until it came to a stop only a few feet away. 

A young woman with cropped dark hair sauntered down a set of stairs, eyeing Naomi’s companion with slanted eyes the same grey as a thundercloud. Light brown skin was decorated with scars and freckles alike, and her loose shirt revealed only hints of a black tattoo underneath. 

“You made good time,” the captain- for she was undoubtedly in charge- said to Naomi. 

“Dragons and their parties,” Naomi half-explained, somewhat arrested when a smile tipped at the woman’s full mouth. 

“Well met, Lady Spark,” she said. 

“Well met, Lady Captain.” A full smile this time, and Naomi had a brief moment to debate her own sexuality. 

“That face gets us all, at first, Lady,” a young man drawled from the ship. “It only lures you in, though, an’ then the shark gets her teeth in yer throat once yer close enough.” 

“Go away, Terrin.” A beleaguered sigh, and wide grins from the rest of the crew. 

Frey burrowed into Naomi, seemingly nervous with the new arrivals. “Look,” Naomi whispered. “Do you see the flying ship?” Interest stilled the squirming girl, and she wriggled around to peek above the cloak’s edge. 

The captain winked at Frey and spoke to her mother. “Captain Linnea. We’re here to evacuate you and your daughter, Dragonkin.” 

“Not Dragonkin,” the woman said sharply. “Not anymore.” 

Linnea hummed. “Oh, we’ll get along just fine.” She stepped up onto the narrow ledge of the small ship, unconcerned with the rocking boat and the nothingness below. “Come along.” She pulled the woman onto the ship and caught both bags without any effort. 

“Frey, are you ready?” Naomi asked. The elven girl leaned back to stare into Naomi’s face. She pressed two small hands to Naomi’s cheeks, gifted the spark with a blinding smile, and jumped from her grasp.

Naomi’s heart stopped, but Linnea leaned over to snatch the girl out of the air; the captain should have been dangerously unbalanced, but the motion was smooth and effortless, as if she leaned over empty space every day with no support. 

“You have no fear, do you, little one?” Linnea grinned back as Frey beamed, thrilled by her few seconds of flight. She glanced back at Naomi. “Back to the top for you?” 

“Yeah,” Naomi said grimly. She paused. “You’ll be okay?” 

“Lady Spark,  _ no one _ is stupid enough to come after me.” Linnea winked and leapt gracefully back onto the deck. Frey clutched her new friend tightly and appeared delighted with her change of circumstances. 

The captain bowed to Naomi. “Stars guide you, Lady Spark.” 

Naomi had heard the human farewell before, in the dragon market. “May they guide you as well, Lady Captain.” 

She turned to leave, and heard a quiet, awed, “A real Sentinel. Never thought I’d see one, Cap.” 

“We are fortunate,” came the quiet agreement, and the ship soared into the night. 

Naomi wondered at the riot of emotions in her chest from that short overheard exchange. This new world had few similarities to her own home world, but they did share a rarity of sparks. Volaris was truly incredible, a world like she never could have imagined. 

But it had its flaws like any other, and she decided months ago to throw her own efforts into helping those in need rather than staying in the palace listening to dragon politics. But those efforts must remain a secret, or all would be lost. 

Naomi sighed, suddenly tired, and began the long climb back onto the city. 

~*~ 

Her dress remained where she’d left it, tucked away in a servant’s closet on the ground floor of the palace. Zandi, a servant with a talent for sewing magic into clothing, helped Naomi out of her traveling clothes and into the dress. 

The older woman briskly tied the laces at the back, which revealed more skin than they covered. The dress was a deep, lovely purple that offset her dark skin and hair. It slanted across her shoulders, baring them so that the wings of her phoenix tattoo were exposed. A slit up the side of the dress exposed the winding tattoo of runes up from ankle to hip. 

“There,” Zandi said decisively. “As lovely as you were before, only now two lesser Beings are being whisked away to safety. I was not in agreement with the others when they suggested we bring you into the Emissary council.” 

“I’m well aware,” Naomi muttered as she slid her feet into delicate flats. 

Zandi continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “But you’ve certainly proven yourself useful.” She squinted at the tattoo over Naomi’s heart, a small flame that danced within a golden diamond shape. The mark of a Sentinel, one created by her two students to mark the friendship and love between the three of them. 

Despite the worlds’ distance between them, the flame still felt warm against her skin. Bolstered, Naomi accepted the book Zandi shoved at her and slipped carefully back into the party. 

“There you are!” Naomi glanced up, as if distracted from the book open in her hands. Prince Kaveh and his twin, Prince Rahim, approached her with friendly smiles. Kaveh held a goblet full of wine in one hand, the other arm hooked around his brother as if to keep him from slipping away. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you forever!” 

“Is that so?” Naomi asked, amused. She shared a look with Rahim, the quietest of the siblings. She liked him a great deal- he was a gentle soul, and had a surprisingly sharp sense of humor once he stopped being so damn shy. 

Naomi gestured to the cluster of people the princes had left. “It seems your harem distracted you soon enough.” 

Kaveh laughed, bright and boisterous. He was always laughing, always grinning as he cheerfully and consistently dragged his siblings into some sort of trouble. Rahim sighed, long-suffering as wine splashed onto his sleeve from his twin’s cup. Rahim looked like a painting come to life, with the same smooth dark skin his younger siblings shared and long, full hair braided tightly with decorative beads. 

Kaveh, on the other hand, was a soldier. He wore his hair trimmed short, and was far more muscular than his twin from years of swinging swords around. A raging river and a gentle creek, Esteri liked to tease. The brothers were opposites, but they were in each other’s company more often than not. 

“Not to worry, I’ll be back with them shortly,” Kaveh said brightly. “I’m just on babysitting duty.” 

“Excuse me?” Naomi asked, narrowing her eyes at the dragon prince. Rahim hid a smile as his brother suddenly eyed the spark warily. 

“Esteri says everyone has to stay and enjoy her party. That means you two don’t get to hide in the library. Don’t blame me,” he said hastily when she only stared at him. “I’m just following the lady’s orders.” 

“And since when do you follow your younger sister’s orders?” A smooth, low voice asked from behind Naomi. She glanced over her shoulder to see the beautiful face of Soraya’s consort, a woman with thick black hair and slanted eyes that rested unerringly on Kaveh. 

“Idri!” Kaveh said, brightening. “I don’t, actually, but Soraya said I had to.” 

Idri stepped forward and slipped a hand into Naomi’s elbow. Naomi tried not to appear as flustered as she felt. Idri made  _ everyone _ look like an oaf, ungainly and clumsy in her presence. Despite her blindness, the dragon was the High Sage of the library in the city and served on Prime Darius’s advisory council. 

She tended to butt heads with Soraya most often during those council meetings, and the two lovers were famous for their legendary arguments. “Go play, Prince,” Idri said in amusement. “I will watch over your charges.” 

Rahim drooped. “Now we’ll never escape,” he said sadly to Naomi. Kaveh returned to his harem with a wink. 

Idri hummed. “Do not fear, Prince Rahim,” she teased. “I bring entertainment.” Naomi laughed when the High Sage slid a book from her dress, which was a flattering array of wrapped silk that closely fit the dragon’s curved form. 

Rahim brightened. “Excellent. One day I’ll learn how you get by Soraya. She catches me every time.” Naomi was well aware of the ritual book confiscation by the formidable general. It amused the other siblings to no end. “Noor said he’d bring me a couple, but Soraya usually gets him, too.” 

Naomi looked around and saw a dragon with light brown skin weaving through the crowds with little regard for the other party-goers. Noor looked suspiciously innocent as he approached, and Naomi then noticed Soraya’s narrow-eyed gaze on Rahim’s best friend. 

“Better run,” Noor said, not slowing down. “She figured out I’m the one who set fire to Chancellor Mozgin’s robes.” Naomi choked; Mozgin was a high-ranking member of the Prime’s advisory council. He was a dick and absolutely deserved it, but Noor was usually smarter- more careful- than to play pranks on Mozgin himself. Especially when Soraya was around. The woman had a sixth sense for detecting trouble makers. 

“You did what?” Rahim squawked, but was whisked away by his long-legged friend before Naomi could hear more. 

“Oh, dear,” Idri murmured. “I’d best run interference before she sets Noor on fire.” Idri glided away. Naomi wisely turned out of Soraya’s sight before she let the laugh slip free from her chest, amused as always by the royal family and their companions. 

She felt the steady thrum of her bond with Vahid and felt her smile soften. The magic that bound them- a common thread, evidently, in this new world- drew her to Vahid like a moth to a flame. Vahid turned at her approach, his silver eyes lighting as she neared. 

“My love, I hear you were hiding from the party with a book.” He grinned at her. “Again.” 

“Rahim suggested it,” Naomi said truthfully. She held the book up for him to see. “But, like everything he suggests, it takes all of my concentration to grasp the complexities of the topic.” The cluster around Vahid thinned as she began to explain the book- read last night- in extreme detail, leaving them alone at the edges of the party. 

He stepped closer, eyes lifting to assess those close to them even as he disguised the movement by pressing a kiss to her hair. Carefully, quietly, he murmured, “They’re safe?” 

Love swelled for him, and appreciation for the dangers of his own position. For Frey’s father was another powerful council member; Vahid had been the one to ensure the other dragon remained at the party while Naomi spirited his wife and daughter away. 

“They’re safe,” Naomi said with equal quiet. Vahid lifted her hand and pressed her fingers to his mouth, eyes warm on her own. “I’ll tell you about it later.” 

“Then, my love, our work is done for the night.” He tucked her hand into his elbow and guided her back to the group. “Now we celebrate.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Stiles will be back, of course, and if you guys are interested I'll also continue some of Naomi's new world & story!


	11. Criminal Minds & Supernatural Crossover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ft Criminal Minds crew and the Supernatural idiots. Early days for both shows because I lost interest after 3-4 seasons of SPN and like 8 seasons of CM.

Penelope Garcia shifted in her chair, uncomfortable in the tense briefing room. She had to physically bite her tongue yet again to keep the inappropriate joke or comment at bay, something Morgan noticed if the amused light in his eyes was anything to go by. 

The Deputy Director of the FBI stood patiently (ominously) outside by the elevators. 

“Are we in trouble?” Garcia finally hissed. “Because it feels like we’re in trouble. Emily, I _told_ you we shouldn’t have gone out last night!”

Prentiss cracked an eye open. “Shh. Hungover. Also, you so did _not.”_ JJ snickered.

“This is regarding a case,” Hotch said calmly.

“What? Why wasn’t I briefed?” Garcia asked anxiously. She _always_ prepared the team’s briefings. It was _her_ thing. _Her_ genius work that prepared her little family for whatever psychopath they were chasing down next.

Hotch lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “That’s all I was told.”

“High profile victim?” Morgan wondered.

“Interagency cooperation case?” JJ suggested. The team groaned at that.

“Local police can be difficult enough, if we’re taking over their case,” Rossi sighed. “Other agencies interfering can turn a case into a nightmare.”

“Where is Reid?” Prentiss asked, sitting up to frown around the table. “He hasn’t spiraled into his usual spiel of endless facts that I’ll never need to know.” Morgan snorted a laugh, lounging in his own chair.

“Ooh! They’re here!” Garcia stretched in her seat, craning her neck with the rest of them to see the elevator doors slide open.

“Reid, movin’ fast, buddy,” Morgan said with a low whistle. His grin was bright against his dark skin, always the first to tease the team’s resident genius.

The team watched as Reid stepped out of the elevator, followed by a beautiful woman who was laughably short next to Reid’s lanky frame. She had two men at her back, one a tall, handsome black man who studied the open room with an assessing gaze. The second man was older, with short grey hair and icy blue eyes.

“Who the hell…?” Prentiss squinted at the new arrivals.

 “They don’t look like any agents I’ve ever seen,” Garcia muttered, craning her neck for a better view of the men because _damn._

JJ cocked her head. “How does Reid know them? He doesn’t know people outside of the team.”

“Does he know them, though? They’re friendly, but not familiar,” Rossi pointed out. And it was evident that Reid had some sort of connection with the woman- they were speaking in low voices, Reid’s head ducked down to speak with her even as the Deputy Director stepped forward to introduce herself.

“They don’t know each other, either,” Morgan said quietly. The entire team studied the odd group, cataloging the behaviors and expressions of each individual.

“Don’t profile the Deputy Director,” Hotch ordered, exasperated in his usual expressionless way.

But even Garcia, the only non-profiler in the room, could tell that both Reid and the Deputy Director treated the newcomers with genuine respect. And _Reid-_ brilliant, socially awkward, anxious Reid- appeared to have formed an instant bond with the strange woman.

It was pinging all of Garcia’s friend alarms. _Her_ Reid didn’t do that, could barely manage basic professional relations, much less friendships with curvy, gorgeous women with two solemn-eyed soldier types at her back.

And the woman was undoubtedly in charge. There was an air of command to her, and Garcia’s natural need to _know things_ was running in circles inside her brain. She reached unconsciously for her laptop.

“No cyber stalking her,” Morgan said, tugging it out of her grip. He winked when she pouted. “At least not yet, baby girl.”

The team straightened in their seats as the group entered the briefing room. They looked curiously between Reid and the woman, observing their teammate’s strangely relaxed stance beside her. Reid frowned at Morgan’s subtle wink and thumbs up, entirely oblivious to the suggestion.

“Everyone, this is Darcy Lewis-Hale,” the Deputy Director announced. “She has agreed to join us on this case as a consultant from Stark Industries.” Eyebrows rose around the room. The Director continued. “Vernon Boyd and Chris Argent are also affiliated with Stark Industries and have their own… expertise to offer for this case.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Darcy said. She looked up at Reid and elbowed him gently in the side. “Want to introduce your team, hotshot?”

“Ah, sure.” Reid ducked his head and shuffled a little. “Hotch is the team leader. JJ is our liaison, and Garcia is our technical analyst. The others are all special agents… uh, profilers: Derek Morgan, David Rossi, and Emily Prentiss.”

Darcy cataloged each individual. Garcia wondered why she already seemed familiar with the names and faces of each team member. Though if she truly worked for Stark… Garcia made a mental note to go back and tighten the security on her servers.

“If you don’t mind,” Hotch interrupted politely. “I’d like to get started. I understand this is time sensitive?” The Deputy Director nodded.

“Of course.” Darcy accepted the seat Reid gestured to, Boyd and Chris pulling up chairs on either side of her like two steely-eyed bookends. Reid moved to his usual seat further around the table as the Deputy Director passed around case files.

“Miss Garcia,” she said. “You were just emailed a file.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Garcia turned to the screens, where crime scene photos were now displayed. “Oh,” she said quietly at the sight. Garcia swallowed hard at the sight of the victims on the screens but, as always, worked past it so her team could go catch the monster responsible.

~*~

“Shit,” Darcy breathed. She shared a knowing look with Reid that had half the team eyeing them suspiciously. “Boyd?” The wolf tipped his head in acknowledgement.

Definitely another werewolf, then.

Darcy let her hair fall over her shoulder, acting as a curtain to hide her face. “Can you track the scent?” Her voice was so low none of the FBI profiling team would hear it over the noise of the active crime scene.

Techs were gathering evidence in the sectioned-off area of the park. Police milled around the scene, JJ already in quiet discussion with an unhappy looking Sheriff. Of course the cops were more concerned with the jurisdictional tug-of-war than the dead body left in pieces in the park. 

Boyd crouched beside the mangled body. “Doubt it,” he murmured. “Too many people have been through here.” He shot a pointed look at the cops and media messing up the scent trail.

“I’m thinking a rogue, maybe even a feral,” Darcy added quietly. She glanced up as Spencer Reid stepped up beside her.

“That’s what I thought- hoped, actually,” he told them. “I was afraid it was a pack at first, since the body is so damaged. That’s why I reached out to you.” 

Boyd frowned and shook his head. “A single wolf could have done this. Especially if he was feral.” 

“He?”

“I’m getting a male scent, yeah. No fear, just blood lust.” Boyd stood, told them both, “This kill wasn’t too long ago.” 

A nearby coroner looked around at that. “Maybe six to eight hours, yeah. Good guess.” They wandered off, unaware of Boyd rolling his eyes behind them. 

“I’m glad you reached out, Spencer,” Darcy said seriously. “A feral werewolf could cause a lot of damage to your team if they caught up with him.” 

Reid ducked his head. “Thanks for coming. I know it was a weird request-”

“Not the weirdest all week, I can tell you that,” Darcy said with a laugh. She placed a hand on his arm and smiled at him, amused when his team outright stared at them now. “Besides, Jane says you’re good people.” 

He immediately brightened. “I went to a few of her lectures and her theory on interdimensional travel years ago. I can’t believe she remembered me.” 

“You made an impression,” Darcy said wryly. “A genius half-Fae just as fascinated with science as she is?” 

“When I realized who she was and what she was trying to prove, even when all the human scientists laughed at her- oh, and then she overthrew the Unseelie Queen?” He made a noise of disbelief. “This realm was killing my mom- she’s fully Fae, one that’s overly sensitive to earth’s unique atmosphere. We weren’t able to safely return to the Fae realm thanks to the Queens.” 

“Even if you had, it wouldn’t have helped.” Darcy suppressed a shiver. “They were destroying the realm. It was nothing but ashes and blood.” 

“I thought my mom was going to die here,” Reid said softly. His eyes were wet as he hunched over, curling in on himself in a way that made him look like a wounded baby deer. “I had to watch her wither away, get sick from the air here until I thought she’d just shrivel up and die. Then Dr. Foster reached out, somehow remembering me from years ago and she…” 

“She helped you bring your mom home,” Darcy finished. She squeezed his arm supportively, aware that the FBI team was still watching them closely- and taking the entire wrong idea away from her friendliness with Reid. They’d have to be careful- an entire team of highly trained profilers watching their every move was just asking for a slip up. 

Chris hung up his phone and turned back to the group. “Evidence will be taken care of. Anything inhuman will be quietly destroyed, at the Deputy Director’s discretion.” 

“She know you have people inside the lab to do that for you?” Boyd asked, amused. 

“I decided against telling her that,” Chris admitted, “but I have a feeling she knows anyway. But this way I don’t have to blow anyone’s cover.” 

Darcy chewed on her lip in thought. “This district is… what, Alpha Zhou’s territory?” 

“Yeah,” Boyd answered, “but the last body was found in Alpha Cohen’s territory. We’re right on the line between the two. They’re friendly with each other, though, according to Stiles and Laura’s intel. Both offered any kind of support if we need it.” 

She stared over at the victim. “So is this rogue attempting to send one or both packs a message? Play them against each other?” 

“Or get your attention?” Chris countered. “Draw you out, maybe?” He shifted closer at that, as though preparing to grab her and run from the imagined threat. Peter’s overprotective influence rubbing off on him, for sure. 

Reid tapped his fingers rapidly against his leg. “You think they’re trying to set the packs up? So a spark will intervene?” 

“If that’s the case, then this isn’t a feral werewolf,” Boyd pointed out. “Too much planning.”

But Darcy’s attention was on Chris, who had his steely blue eyes fixed on two men lingering at the edges of the crime scene. She looked them over, her own instincts pinging with every second of inspection. 

Ill-fitting suits, both of them armed with at least two pistols each. The careful way they edged out of the FBI’s attention, but the way their hard gazes drifted back to the victim… then to Boyd, then her, and finally resting on Chris. 

At Chris’s obvious attention, their eyes skimmed casually past Darcy’s group. But she’d seen the way both men had stiffened at the sight of Chris, wariness and suspicion playing over their faces. 

“Friends of yours?” She murmured as the men wandered away. 

“Not quite,” Chris said quietly. He glanced down at her, brow furrowed. “They’re hunters. Coupl’a loose cannons.”

“Want me to track them?” Boyd offered. 

“No,” Chris said immediately, so abrupt that Boyd’s eyebrows rose. “They’re trigger happy hunters and extremely unpredictable. They’d shoot you on sight.” 

“Without confirmation?” Darcy asked sharply. “That’s how they operate?” That was a hundred kinds of unacceptable. 

Chris shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I’ve… heard things about the Winchester boys. Their father was a real piece of work. Friendly with Gerard. I hunted with him twice, and then made a point to never work with him again.” 

Darcy fired off a quick text to Danny and Stiles with instructions to look into the Winchester brothers. Danny could dig up all kinds of dirt on them and Stiles would know to log them as a potential threat. 

For now, though… 

“I want to have a talk with them.” 

Chris sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that.” 

Despite his obvious reluctance, Chris still managed to track down the hunters in under an hour. “Gerard adopted some of John Winchester’s methods,” he muttered, looking ashamed at even knowing how to find them. 

Darcy patted him on the shoulder and then broke down the door of the motel room. Chris and Boyd flanked her as she took three steps into the room and threw both brothers against the wall with her spark.

The shorter one dropped his gun with a strangled noise of fury when he hit the wall. He’d been very close to getting a shot off, though. She was reluctantly impressed with his reaction time. 

Golden magic hummed loudly, vibrating through the room on a frequency that set everyone’s teeth on edge. Darcy ignored the cursing and directed her attention to the taller brother with wounded eyes, a softer presence, and a very interesting amount of demonic energy. 

“Hello, Winchesters.” Darcy smiled brightly at them both as Boyd shut the motel door behind them. Chris lurked somewhere behind her and glared at the men, daring them to try something. As if they could, plastered to the wall with raw magic stinging their skin.

She wasn’t feeling very nice. 

“Witch,” the angry one growled. He mumbled something under his breath, too quiet for her to catch. Was it.. A prayer? Weird. 

She paused. “Spark,” she corrected, with as much insult in her tone as she could manage. Both men stared blankly at her. “How the…” Darcy looked to Chris. “They don’t know what I am? Chris, I thought you said they were somewhat competent.” 

“Hey!” 

Chris sighed. “It’s very likely that they had a very… limited education on the supernatural.” 

“Wait, Chris? As in Chris _Argent?”_ The tall one- Sam, she thought, the other was Dean- asked, interest bright in his voice. 

Dean slowed his struggles to stare at Chris with wide eyes. “Argent?” 

“Boys,” Chris sighed. “I see you remember me.” He’d been on a few hunts with John and Gerard, when he was younger, he’d mentioned. Both Sam and Dean were young enough that John kept them out of it, but the Argent name still held a lot of weight in the hunter community. Enough that they would have remembered John’s affiliations with the family. And would certainly hear the rumors and reputation circulating today. 

Much of it regarding the cold, calculating, and terrifying new Argent matriarch. 

“If I let you go are you going to try and shoot us?” Darcy asked, irritable. They mumbled an assent so she let them drop to the floor, snaking their weapons towards her as she drew her magic back. 

Dean flashed her a grin that likely got him a lot of friendly attention from women who didn’t share a bed with Bucky Barnes. She ignored him, but was well aware that his suggestive lean against the table put him closer to a black duffel bag half-hidden by the chairs. 

“We saw you two lurking around the crime scene today. Hunting, were you?” 

Sam shrugged. “We were in the vicinity, thought we’d check it out.” 

“Why? Friend of yours do this?” Dean gestured to the crime scene photos splayed out across the table. 

“No, dipshit, we’re here to stop a feral werewolf.” She crossed her arms, annoyed. “I’m guessing you’re the ‘kill anything that isn’t like me’ kind of hunter.” 

A shadow crossed Dean’s face, followed quickly by his lip curling up, a mean glint in his eyes. “Well, darlin’-” 

“Dean,” Sam said on a heavy sigh, but he was interrupted by a flash of light and an overwhelming presence exploding into the room. Darcy had shields up around Chris and Boyd a heartbeat before the intrusion, thanks to a warning flare from her spark. Her vision cleared- and then her heart skipped a beat in shock. 

Wings cut the room in half, separating Darcy from the Winchesters. Her magic was humming loudly in her ears, reacting to the threat presented by the man glowering at her. Behind him, Dean looked smug and Sam exasperated. 

“Who are you?” His voice rang in her ears, just on this side of painful. But not overwhelming, and not driving her to her knees the way it was intended to do. Her spark filtered it, caught the brunt of the force behind it to protect her.

“Darcy Lewis-Hale, spark,” she snapped, pulse racing. “Who the fuck are you?” 

The threatening atmosphere abruptly disappeared. The man- _angel,_ she realized hysterically- peered curiously at her. “A spark? I thought you’d all died out years ago.” 

“You thought wrong,” Boyd rumbled, growling when the angel leaned too close. 

“Cas, what the hell are you doing?” Dean hissed. “I called you to take care of them! She’s a witch! They attacked us!” 

“She’s a spark, Dean,” Cas said mildly. “They’re very different from witches, that’s for certain.” 

“I’ve heard rumors of sparks-” Sam murmured. 

“Not you, too,” Dean complained. 

“- but nothing’s ever been confirmed. Just whispers, vague references in the mythology books.” Darcy sensed that this one was the nerd and felt a reluctant spark of fondness. He’d get along great with Derek.

“Sparks have existed for centuries,” Cas informed Sam. He narrowed his eyes and poked at the edge of her shield, delighted when it crackled dangerously at his touch. “And they’re stronger than they’ve ever been.” 

Darcy was alarmed by the ferocity with which her magic was responding, surging violently every time the angel neared her shield. 

“Cas… You’re Castiel,” Chris said, stunned. “The _angel_ Castiel?” 

“I am.” He smiled at them, serene. Dean seemed to be disgusted with the lack of smiting but- Darcy’s interest piqued- lingered very close to the angel while eyeing them suspiciously. 

“You know where sparks came from?” She could hardly believe it- a chance to discover the truth, answers to the questions she’d long ago given up on ever knowing. And from an angel, no less. Bucky would never believe this. 

“Of course.” Castiel made his wings disappear, apparently deciding this would be a friendly conversation despite the raging tensions in the room. “Sparks are descendants of the Nephilim.” 

“...What.” 

“Nephilim,” he repeated, puzzled by her disbelief. “The offspring of fallen angels and humans. Where else would magic this strong come from?” Cas poked at the shield again. 

“Stop that,” Dean grumbled, sinking into the chair in defeat. “You’re gonna get hurt.”

“Descendants of Nephilim,” Sam breathed. He shared a wide-eyed look with Darcy. “I’ve never found anything that suggested as such. I mean, they’d be a totally different race, right? If their lineage had angel blood?” 

“It would explain why sparks are hereditary,” Darcy mused. “My mother was a spark.” 

“Was?” Dean asked. 

“She was murdered by Kate Argent,” Darcy said tightly. “For the crime of existing, and having me.” Dean looked away, eyes clouded. Behind her, Chris took a pained breath.

But she was more interested in this angel’s knowledge than Chris’s guilt. He knew she didn’t blame him for the death of her mother, but he’d have to get over his guilt on his own. It was too raw for her, even now, to speak about the all-too vivid memories of her mother’s death.

Boyd clapped her gently on the shoulder, scenting her pain. He waited until she smiled weakly at him in reassurance before informing the room at large, “I’m going back to the FBI. If they manage to profile a werewolf and track him down, Reid’s too scrawny to fight him off alone.”

“He’s Fae,” Chris reminded him. “He’d probably be fine. But you’re right, we can’t lose focus.” Darcy dimmed, tried not to let her disappointment show. Chris tugged gently on her braid. “How about you talk with Castiel-” his voice wavered oddly on Cas’s name- “and the boys and I can go track down some leads outside of the FBI.”

Sam fidgeted. Dean rolled his eyes. “Spit it out, Sammy.”

“I want to stay!” Sam blurted. He glanced at Darcy sheepishly. “If that’s okay, of course.”

“Are you going to use this knowledge to hunt sparks?” She asked.

Sam shared a look with Dean and then said, carefully, “Not unless they’re a threat to innocent lives.”

Darcy’s expression was hard. “Not good enough. What you consider a threat might just be them existing.” She pursed her lips, considering her next offer for a moment while Dean bristled. “But if you swear to contact either me or Stiles before approaching a potentially threatening spark, I’ll reconsider.”

Sam smiled. “Let’s negotiate, then.”

“Dean.” Chris jerked his head in a command. Dean obeyed with the immediate response of a trained soldier, which implied very depressing things about his childhood. Boyd turned to follow them out the door.

“Oh, Boyd.” Darcy tugged a slim red card from her back pocket. A phone number etched in gold shimmered on the metal card. “Stark wanted us to give this to Penelope Garcia.”

“The computer lady?”

Darcy shrugged. “Evidently she’s one of the best hackers he’s ever seen. Tell her this is a job offer for when she gets sick of working for the government.” Boyd snorted and took the card before leaving.

She turned back to Sam and the patient angel observing them all with interest. “Now, about the negotiations…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a recent lightning bolt of inspiration, so there’s a chance that I might post a new fic in the Legacy verse if you guys are interested??
> 
> I know it’s been a while, but I have long story lines for both Darcy and Naomi plotted out and am very tempted to start writing in this verse again…

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys aren’t expecting a serious storyline here, because this is my opportunity to write every trope and prompt I’ve collected over the years. There will be a very loose timeline, but not really. I'm just having fun with this verse :)
> 
> That said, if there are any scenes or prompts you’d like to request, you can send me a message on tumblr or in the comments and I’ll try my very best to fit it in. ANY character, relationship, specific scene, etc in this ‘verse will be welcome!


End file.
